This is a song about "Talk alot"

But, damn you write alot. too bad it's a waste, punk,

Shawty feinding for love, i be feeding her lust

There's a shortage in ur dormant thoughts, u talk alot for a 'sick' writer

I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her

The vacancy that sat in my heart

Alot of niggas fake who go to hard

I could spend a whole damn advance on some kicks and some pants son

But we can kick it sometime, we actually have alot in common

Been afraid alot but conquered all of my fears,

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

Fuck it turn my mic up a lil bit

Cause i tend to talk, alot of shit

Free throws of money, bet you can’t block

No sword tho just rhymes and blunt smoking alot

You a buster talking alot of shit

Is you a fiend now, nigga? catch a gleamed bullet