This is a song about "Shit no shut"

Only thing omitted is a baby or a wedding ring

But things ain't no changing, nothing amazing, no shit i'm gaining

The real muscle in the message of that

No more foreboding, time to end this shit

Ross and folarin, couple women

No hook but my shit is spit written

We gonna ball all year, nigga know that

Im made of just rap no quire shit.

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot

With a home girl, best friend, lover, all that

I'm being real, this ain't no "pretend" shit

Alarm clock ringing, eyelids glued shut

And i'm strollin' down south like good luck chuck

Speed is what you lack, you can’t catch me no more, so shut the fuck up homo.

All i know is bad bitches, i got finally famous with me though