This is a song about "My rapping skills"

I’m like a drug dealer

My rapping is ether

My chances were shallow somehow i'm so deep

And to test me, practice my skills in the best league

My internal skills are nothing you can run after,your raps don't

I am not no homophobe, good thing i don't read the post

My rhyming skills are mine and ill, i'll leave you climbing hills,

Tired of sifting through my mail i feel like cartwright, bills

You're fired and tired, you can't stay up like a limp dick

I sit and rap till my skills are perfected

My skills they are all weak

For the low that nine cheap

The jiggas and the tips

On point, i hone my skills

My skills blossom like a clematis

Aight santana man...let's do this