This is a song about "No one to talk to"

No-one there to console me.

Hopin' that my niggas see

Third ward general, young cash money

No one can compare to what you mean to me

Trying to make it big no one seems to be to nice

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

No one adventured with you so one knows about the life your now used to

But in real life they eyes is on your moneysee the enemies will say they true

And i'mma keep ya fresh

But that to no-one he'll confess

Because your poor and there's no one else to blame

But the industry's a lot like, a crap game

But can i really call me one when i talk most to a host

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

That theres no one to love me

Birkin' baby, go merk 'em baby