This is a song about "The trap game"

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

Blunt smoke thicker than the dick of a black trap

And my niggas all the same

Im aggressible to the game

The realist in the game

I like my hoodies fucked with lame

The foundation collapse, your trap inside, you couldn't go

She call me all the time, i ain't no regular joe

The game plan, the game plan

Boy, you can’t tell me a damn thang

Im tired of hearing guns clap in the trap,

With a home girl, best friend, lover, all that

Then lost my faith again

I make love to the game

And she's the type to booby trap my penis with her cleavage

To understand that the fucking faggot didn't like me much