This is a song about "My son"

// [but the kid is not my son]

Killing our dreams, stealing our vision

You my son, you should thank my dick.

All my new bitches seem to get old real quick

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

// [she says i am the one, but the kid is not my son]

About my son growing up without the best mom ever mentioned.

I remember tripping, walking through the set like my glock don’t think

My bitch hustle hard and hold a nigga down

My son asked me to play, the shopping cart with a clown

Here's my account, son, of why i rap so good,

I’m picturing that body like a camera phone would

// [she says i am the one, but the kid is not my son]

But hold the beat, he ain't speaking for everyone

They'll have to rename this one

Few days back my sister lost her son....