This is a song about "Sore"

Spit magic im dumbledore run the game til my foot sore

Gorgeous, the funky four horsemen and one more

Then the world ain't no trick no more

Making these fool sore over his last whore.

I don't care about defeating me no more, i’m rapping you to reduce my pain, my sore,

Jealousy inside, make'em wish i diedoh my lord, tell me what i'm livin' for

Though she can hardly walk cos i had to make her sore

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

Wake up in make up on the floor sore with a whore and sock hung on the bedroom door

Loc’s on, chucks low, black beanie dogpatron top wash straight from the liquor store

Don't always fuck me good, i'm just too cheap to divorce her

Set in store through each sore formed by this semi-auto repeater

You lied down sore and booed i am up pale and blue i ain't got no wings but still i forever flue

So ain't no future fuckin' youi ain't tha bitch ta love yacan't do a damn thang for you