This is a song about "Still got it yow"

Ye i moved and still got nothing do

I don't mean to matthew kemp you, but shit you

Hairs away from qualifying, still got free lunch, that's how it feels,

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

Cause you no longer safe, so go hide yow face

They say that i never cease to amaze

I wonder why, i sit and cry

Yow am ridin around in my

Dis is ma essence, ma presence yow sentence

Black on black nikes that represent the lifeless lives

It still messes them up personally

And i don’t know why you fuck niggas can’t see

Adapt to being black, strapped and gang tats, look

She's still gambling, got on hook

Still ain't got no ice, only cotton sweaters.

Until the day i put 100k inside her purse