This is a song about "My times running short"

And if we don't we'll have a race of babies

Ima make this short so im not wastin my breathe

It’s a party in my pants and you invited with all that dance

I stay short with my boys, kick facts an murder this beat with some sick raps,

My wicked rhymes, i told you to stop three times.

Penthouse on collins, money long as ocean drive

Nigga, rap, you fuckin' suck probably

Like the times my bank starts texting me

That's why she in the club like fuck it, though

But my words fall short on those who don't know.

Selling my assets, i'm so damn illegal that i need to be arrest

Here trying to impress,but my raps suppress,notin short of the best,

Times in this crime land, my thug nation

I guess i'm leftwich cause i still get to win

What's that? my lines are short? how's this

And aye ya yai dun had some bad bitches