This is a song about "Not free styling"

They gotta point em out baby

Dont paid the prepaid free

Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that

I'm sounding, like i'm whining, my wiring is twisted, my styling is gifted

My slight fo's just talk dirty

Trapped in my sins, can i break free?

Sick of tha sirens, body bags, and tha gun firing

I will dismember you in no pattern cause i'm free styling

That's why i'm makin' money

Who am i? someone set me free

Or cause i’m black, hmmm maybe

Fuckin hoes thats all free.

Fuck u i've been free since 1863, stress free,

That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money