This is a song about "Subject"

Bitch please, not a line rhymed, metaphors half assed, and the subject,

While everybody got ammunition on deck

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Imagine me the subject of paparazzi pictures,

I'm like a test subject, use me now and then you reject/

Ready to watch? i'm a slip it in the tape deck

As im subject to torture

Ay yo you wonder who i are

Development to try make it intelligent, irrelevant. signs of the subject

All fifty seein visions of me shot in the chestcouldn't rest, nah nigga i was stressed

I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her

To you niggas biting my flows and my subject matter

Its all gun bustin, its such a lack of the subject

If i didn't, i guess i'm a cool cocaine connect

Give the new rappers a subject to rap about, and they'll give you a doubt//

She leave before the sun up, leave you something to think about