This is a song about "The n64 rumor mill"

I bring the heat like the

She acting all extra

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Make her surrender &reconsider real nigga

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Cop the .357 and 9 mill- i don't fuck with even digits

Like a male version of lauryn hill

I keep the rhymes flowing like a wind mill

And you can underrate me, but i know what i'm worth

Rapping with meek mill and the whole entire dream chasers.

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

That's me spitting this fucking garbage toss

But that's just another rumor.

Life is a bitch so a g can't sweat her