This is a song about "Scraps"

They trying to be the greatest, their whole signing was a favor

Writing off scraps of the paper, know i might not make raps that are major

Then i'mma throw this money while you do it with no hands

Searched endlessly to find a style that dispersed my scraps

Help out a friend who's living with the rats and eating scraps

Hop over, run backwards, with a knap sack of green supreme hats

And dj's play my records cause i make the needles dance

Help out a friend who's living with the rats and eating scraps

Misdemeanored that twenty bag of weed

Use to get the bone scraps now i get the good meat

I know they mad i’m on, but that's too bad cause err shit, i'm here to stay i brought my bags

Blare recorders with static scraps but don't blame the orders when the matic taps.

Give her that d i'm outta 8 mile

Until all that's left is scraps, all bloody and dire