This is a song about "Scope and application"

Presidential suite and bitch, i never use my right to vote

The funeral for hip-hop, i'm aiming down the sniper scope,

Yea i'm missin some sleep

And kill yourself and your clique

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

But i did have miss medusa, she loud and she leave me stoned

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Social conditioning and

Knees dug deep into the pavement

Butterfly bow tie, made my mark like the craters on the moon

Like fillin out an application, only lyrics are my resume.

Then the bitch get lock jawwe on top like toupeshat to the back, with 2 braids

Back to my life application, you might think i'm happy, with this good fucking grades

Alwaysstay ahead of these stank hoes

Riddles and jokes and scary crows