This is a song about "Textual evidence literary and theme"

Y'all always on that bs and ps i'm takin all things

Eyes of dead presidents, i plan the evidence,

Literary genius vocab insane after smoking medicinal

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Any evidence for the police to find

Panoramic views be tumblin' out my mind

To get more attention for the struggling theme

Got a pocket full of cream, my moccasin's clean

Time to hide the evidence and clear the footprints time to be ghostly

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

And every nigga suddenly be rappin bout that trap shit

Situated in my chair having evidence presented,

To further personal gain and interest, and see there's evidence,

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

When you say i suck its just more evidence

But love my music, say i do nothing but hits