This is a song about "Raps"

I don't make fake shitty one syllable raps,

Help me pay my little rent, maybe sit in a benz

I'm slighting your raps crazy

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Niggas talkin' greasy, i'm the one that gave them they chance

Like everyone saying “faggot” when i spit raps

Enough of the weakened raps

For setting up traps

Rolling while im blowing this stash

Writing raps like psychopaths

Im gonna teach raps nothing without

And i don’t take no dames out

Vertebrae snapped, gats...huh, i swerve em right

He raps fine lines he knows he raps tight