This is a song about "No more fighting"

Up in my new two door

Aint no room for one more

Flyin’ through the city, all-black, bruce wayne

No more money, no more fame

Now i'm rising up and fighting, ain't no guards, fuck protection,

I need something to hold fuck that passive aggression

No more appeasing neutralizing bleeding

And how it feels to feel that feeling

I breed 'em like i'm going to war

I miss ya... cuz your here no more,

You don’t have to worry no more

You want beef? we'll start a gulf stream war

Sweet, okay makes sense

No more wishing at wells