This is a song about "Psycho bea"

That ain't a typo look at your size maestro you psycho

Even when the skies is grey, and my money was low

Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king

You think i'm serious when i say i'm a psycho? i'm faking,

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

You must be a psycho path loonitic at it

Did i mention psycho

Where they find me, 16 on death row

Bow for ya new king derailled psycho

Counting 100 grand i pulled it from my last show

Psycho as ol’ mike jackson without nyquil, michael,

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

Psycho jacket attached with brackets latched and fastened in a bridle fashion

20 racks really thats sneaker money

Who thinks they're as psycho as me?