This is a song about "Supply"

This isn't a diss, this is just a reply to hip-hop's low supply/

Getting high, see the demons in my eyes, before i die

True to the gamei claim outlaw riderswe give a fuck what they try

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

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

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

So much dough i supply the bakery

Got the seven on me like vick jersey

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

My teacher said impossible but i’ma fucking try

Automatic possessing with intent to supply

Yo those dealers near your house don't supply no heat,

Don't dietevery milla fish fridayi'm squad deep

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

Supply an entire island of flies, or a botanical garden