This is a song about "Something but make it suitable for kids miku does the test of being a great pop star in this ring of joystick verse"

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

So great i take over kids minds, like clash of the clans

When you next to medo you wanna test me ?put your tired head on my chest

I've conversed with the valley of death, and it tells me it's a test.

About but no one ever gives anything in return without a doubt. im tired of being

Martin luther i must’ve seenmixtape, mix ya body with tapethat’s what that green’ll bring

Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring

Half the kids, trapped in this, black abyss, of criminal life thinking

And say it in a rhyme for the future of our youth,

Pathological liars even know i'm the truth

I’m just a young nigga advocating ambition

Does all this mean i can't rap - the colour of my skin

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

A clever felon sensing the scent of a verse

I’m a plunger in the brew of this music shit_through with it

Watch me blow like i exhale i excel in this rap shit