This is a song about "Performance contracts"

Together all the timethought it was true love

Contracts made from flesh written in blood i'm speechless,

Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit

Electrifying performance, yeah, these bitches been jolted

My performance, no conformance

Without the sound of guns

That's the work of the reaper, doing contracts for the preacher,

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

Can't stand these hacks gettin' cash and contracts for their wack raps

And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks

Elegant performance, bubble lex full insurance

Under performing i'm under #performance, losing my thoughts/

Pull up on a stark with enough white to kill a horse

Rapping is a genuine gift you lack performance.

The white boy sees this as a clearance, now its