This is a song about "Subject"

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

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

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

Imagine me the subject of paparazzi pictures,

But i’m worth it though work this shit so perfect though

Subject matter’s all about the riches and dough,

I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed

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

Got your whore doing shit that's uncalled for

As im subject to torture

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

Keep her there, so nobody can wonder where her face went

Once mr. woods was all good, now a nigga only

Subject of substance is important you see

That happen to act like a black president

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