This is a song about "Reduced my quality"

All the girls really want is fun

My words are my rhythm

Quote un-quote backpack still bring them bitches out

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

Subjected through quantity and quality why i preform this art

But there's a devil in the ghetto tryin to tear it apart

But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow

I'm not sure if i know. i won't be reduced to my father's level though.

Quality a gift to the people who are worthy for blessings

Everybody seems to misread every sentence

A coward dies a thousand deaths

My wondrous success bombs my regrets

This is my original, my validation

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Reconcile with the quality words we speak!

Sorry mama, i can't turn the other cheek