This is a song about "No skill"

You say i got no skill?

That's aids to the ill

Is when a person has a artistic skill

So i spend it real fast, cause i’m tryna sit and chill

I'm the motherfuckin' reason that you had any skill

It's terminally, permanently, seriously ill

I like my glasses filled, as if it has to spill

Is when a person has a artistic skill

All these other rappers to you they're no par, skill discrepancy you spitters are so scarce

Two click-clacks and a burst in the niggas , they be scared and be running with their tears

See that's what we genius rappers call skill,

You fumbled in a drill, young man get on the hill

That's double your skill and triple the syllables.

Took her to the club bought her three more bottles

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

No money, little bit of chance, skill, and i was out sold,