This is a song about "Sir francis drake"

You ain't no killer

My records sell, yes sir

My records sell, yes sir

That's that young sir rapper

Crazy on shake, paintin' the cake like jay-z and drake,

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

Yes, sir - thank god kinda worried 'bout my ass

But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas

Catalog growing, rappers skedaddle move over

You suck like a hoover, i'm here to end your term, sir

Truthfully don't do much, but with you trying do something

Excuse me sir, are we done, gotta go running,

Young money like drake and nicki

I'mma drop you off home quickly

But who the fuck cares sir?

And i just want to hold her