This is a song about "Running cross country"

Nigga, rap, you fuckin' suck probably

I got family spread out across the country

Like dead presidents a country leaderless and lawless,

Go for mine, that ball shit, pour ciroc 'til i'm nauseous

We're living in a fantasy

Hustle for dis country money

Stop sign eyes, cross-hairs on a sight/

Throw your hands to the sky tonight

They rap they're ass off and don't nobody like their songs

If you to cross, i will set your ass on fire on christ's cross

Cross that shit off my checklist

Yeah, i never dreamed of a gift

I speak my mind with an upside down cross

Ironic cause your lipstick is red, of course