This is a song about "These thots"

Tell these thots to go blow the frank

Cause i got the burner in the hand

I'm calling these shots i'm jumpin these charts

Lord, you're so pretty, lying in my arms

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

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

We can make more, make babies

So ill get up and spit these

Niggas can't afford these

You gotta breathe and be at ease

These years these fucking living nightmares

Cause i can't seem to feel myself

And i’m still trying to defy these guys, all these politicians,

Somalia women ethiopian queens never could tell the difference

And whoever thought i would rhyme these,

And all my childhood memories