This is a song about "Throwing yeets"

They hating, patrolling and trying to catch me riding dirty

He throwing money on her like she won the lotto (the lottery)

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

Throwing rhymes and sewing lines like seamstresses, pop folks in domes,

My uncle doing life, inside prison he wasn't wrapped too tight

I'm killing rappers and throwing their bodies aside/

I’m the rapper with clout columbians rap about

But the government won’t take us, they’re throwing us out,

Throwing and animal while rowing casual

To make karma come faster than she normally will

Throwing out the trash, you wack rappers mad?/

Aye jay, 8 grand skins gonna take that

See, i'm second to no one

To be throwing the hand’s son”