This is a song about "Teachers die in hell"

Now you finna cut your hair, you waiting to excel

I live in god's waiting room, depressing as hell

And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is fucking chanel

And when i die through sprayin shells, i'd hope hip hop dies and sent straight to hell/

Like dammit you the shit you do it so well

Instead of the asylum i was somewhere in hell

Holla out my set

Ull still die in a sec

Leaving them to die in spite

Throw your hands to the sky tonight

Okay gay go to hell they will appreciate your rap and treat you well in the hell

I turtle-shell niggasin harold and bell, niggaseat you like lunch, before the bell

Will i die in my sleep or will i die of cancer

And fiendin' for my mercedessuckers scatter

Not thinkin bout the boy that you dropped off in hell.

It's that crack, give you something to sell