This is a song about "Paper chasing"

Chasing the feeling to conquer to own it

I can say ghettoest ‘cause i come from where metal spit

Left me like a blank white paper

You know...you know who you are

Jt: didn't get a gift for her

Yeah, that shit look like tissue paper,

Chasing lettuce with rebels avoiding temples no heaven

See i tried to spread the d, welcome to my run and gun

But now i regret chasing behind you

Might be leaving with me before the night is through

You never tasted paper

"contemplate", i wrote about her

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

But i don’t know what the fuck you keep chasing