This is a song about "Sorting fire"

Farenheit four fifty one i'm on fire

I got something you've been waiting for

I spit fire like a fire breathing animal

Fumble or you crumble, get murked on the humble

Someone call an ambulance, everyone's on fire!/

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

Girl, what you grabbing cash for

The whole parking lot is on fire

Said when i do dirt wit her

What's with all this fire,

And if my mother answer, i'll ask her

Because my soul spit like fire

Blow your brains out, set you on fire

That damier bag i bought her

And then along came the wrong man for her

To the flame then shortly after write fire