This is a song about "That gir"

That means go and get that paper too

'cuz they don’t smile or smell like you

That i just haven't came up with a name yet

Don't believe that shit that we've been fed

St. louis, detroit, chi-town, nap

So use that black eye to remember that,

That magic, that vanish

How can i convey this

That had the voices that people worshiped.

Yeah, they all convinced but all for shit

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

That outnumber infinity

I got that shit, that makes you high

Never meant to make your daughter to cry

We tell that nigga that im coming

Wait, now it's about eight something