This is a song about "Thirty orbits"

I'm right back in it dead yummy and her mildew stank

The next thirty seconds i didn't understand

Bet you thirty dollars you find her like cartman found kenny, dead

And i'm somali so i guess i'm just tryna eat bread

My demeanor, thirty years my senior

You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir

Now it’s your turn, spitting till your thirty?

I just want somebody i can see

Apparentally it make you argue morethe more things you throw

A thirty shot to me is like a ten finger akimbo