This is a song about "Sold souls"

And them hating ass niggas, we ain’t like those

It's the rise of the reaper, collecting lost souls,

Sold sega games, his cousin sold crack

May just gon' bring hobo back

But it ain't hard to tell,his soul is already sold

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

Seven years old in my heart, so i'm stayin' gold

I was convinced that rap was the shit, and i was sold/

Polls showing loaded segments sold like show hosts

And erase my number out the phones of these fake hoes

With a honey in the middle

Souls reaped with a studded sickle

If i take an oath that mean i give up all my area code hoes

The mainstream is selling out, giving their bodies and souls,

Revealing universes and habitats unknown to the oldest of souls,

Because now a nigga hot enough to fuck with one of satan' hoes