This is a song about "Sad rap bout my nan diein"

And the ladies, they lay me, they crazy

When he was say rap god he was talkin bout me

And said she'd pray for my sad, twisted soul

Just stay smartkeep your mind on your bank roll

And i clowntha type of bitch to throw down

I'm over sitting in my room, with a sad frown.

Smoke that mark mcgwire strong, oakland a no basic smoke

This is a joke. could rap bout dissin the pope/

Lil sad tho cus my dad kno i don't smoke

This be the realest shit i ever wrote

They took her by the throat, we front in here for dope

Lil sad tho cus my dad kno i don't smoke

I gotta teach hoes

Forgetting bout all my lows