This is a song about "These"

All these motherfuckers see that i'm searing these critics,

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

At the age of 16, credit card scam schemes

Demons, these angels just took control of these beasts

These rap skills are cunning i'm gunning at all these stupid fucks

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks

Trees discovered never been structured like these

But now i'm pointin the finger at police

To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes

All these famous serial killers got these sharp ass blades.

Over these mattresses,

My nigga, its all love

Getting high, see the demons in my eyes, before i die

To achieve any of these, we just let these visions past by,

And whoever thought i would rhyme these,

I'm everything that they call nice