This is a song about "My return"

My issue isn't televised and you ain't gotta tell the wise

But we alright, and we ball right, it's no return, we're just flossin' ice,

I prefer your applause without a handout

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure

Afterwards return him to the dirt where the worms shit

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

They just wanna dance

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

This pair of sixes is paranormal that rare shit

You gather your thoughts and then return here undetected,

Afterwards return him to the dirt with the worms inside the pit

This my zombie circus, you better get a fuckin' ticket

Ya see all we got is tonight and i ain't tryna see that far

Should i die i'll return like the messiah and piss on your car