This is a song about "Tore"

Loc’s on, chucks low, black beanie dogpatron top wash straight from the liquor store

Winding up left next to the back door after a fight that left your muscles tore

Pass it round, counter-clock, let her show her titties, stop

Fuck with me you'll be forced to watch as i tore you into squat,

You’ll never be me partner so it don’t fucking matter

Patching the hole you tore in rap with your whack beats and swagger

The more wealth the more tore felt.

Damn, i ain't trying to disrespect

Ill sock you and leave you to'(tore) up,

I got class and can't take this bitch to math, what

My momma a og which makes me a don dada

Get in it so i gotsa warn ya fore i tore ya

I am like what happens when our guard be on his job more

Kids are making fun of me and my feelings are still not tore

Right past the poor in clothes they can't afford

Hip hop core that tore your shit like cardboard