This is a song about "Rap about your origin and how it molded you into the person you are today"

Ill make you eat the words of your fruity rap then tell me how it fuckin tastes

Bow our heads, say our grace, make it out the hood was amazing grace

Nah i don't stunt on niggas, i show'em how to do this shit

I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted

And i'll tell you, baby, it was easy

It all depends on the person you want to be

So quit talk about how good you are

This the hardest shit you've heard from la this far

I'm into the lyrics, you bastards are into aesthetics

Two bitches named tiffany i left them with a pair of kids

It was about the rhythm, personality, and your flow that made you rose//

Cause you know, aside from me strugglin' or coming up in one of the most

So all the hustling for nothing man

It was you got me into rap with stan

Step back and respect the art's fucking origin

But i get the dough, shit i might splurge on one