This is a song about "Not wanting too be like my father"

You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet

It's a sad mess always wanting to be hand fed

Tired of making money, i'm on to making history

My father hates me, this it what it seems to be

Not too close cause i dont wanna be a ghost my soul on a stick burnt marshmallow roast

With keen flows.i'm known to rip rhymes you see letters floating in the air like ghost.

My words play like i'm a father at a birthday meet.

Stuck in positions. if victims can't stand the heat

In fact, my hat is in tact with the fubu pull over

Go from wanting to be the president, to being a voter

Wanting to commit suicide how could they not die,

How high? nigga, higher than the kites they fly

Raquel treat me like my father like a fucking stranger

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

You may not be able to stop it, it might be too late

Churches with dirty pastors my people pass the collection plate