This is a song about "Rap sick"

My philosophy is rocks and weed, a partna lean, the glock will squeeze

You best pay up i don't rap for free, i'm sick man probably got a bad disease

And i don't rely on no bitches

Fuck rap i'm sick of this!

You don't have a girl nor a dick plus your rap made me sick

I grew up on circuit boys and go-go music

Your fucking attitude makes me sick

Word spreads fast that your knees spread quick

Sick twisted fantasies

Credit card late fees

Still listen to big

Which rap will make you sick

Me, myself, and i were too sick

I never crack i got that chap stick

I'm bombing rap, 'bout as sick as a hypochondriac

Gods words all cursed like crackshai-tan's way of gettin us back