This is a song about "Supply"

In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die

I'm losing supply up on high that no lie and i'ma bout to apply for my old guy

It's too late, you ran ran out of your last supply

If you don't give a fuck, put your hands up high

You must have won every pageant in america when you was young

Supply an entire island of flies, or a botanical garden

K o d, m i a, twenty racks, let it fly

She knew he was her supply, thought it better than to lie

I be the godly demi who wants moore supply

Hands in the airrrrrrr let-let-let-let it fly

And that's a better reason to for me to take advantage with sex

But i've got time to invest to supply some lyrical complex

I leave most motherfuckers with suppressed lungs running out of air supply,

Tatted upt.y.g.a. basically gotta cremate me cause i'm fly 'til i die

My city, growl with me, hootie hoo'ing through the night sky

Automatic possessing with intent to supply