This is a song about "Past"

Miami nights, made a couple grand

When ya first stabbed me in da past,

Racks on racks, i don’t know how to act

That we can't forget the past.

Im moving right past ya

The science and the art, africa

That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last

Kill 'em witha rhythm, read them your past,

Past times used to to be past whack rhymes and ass lines

And i'm on you rapper's ass like brake lights

Enforce, i'm elegant and

So i don't share, my past

I'll get to em when i land

Just for me being weird in the past/

They could never understand

And stressed... about my white past