This is a song about "Tripping over my own swag"

Anxiety, anxiety, tripping over reality

The therapist nicknamed me kid cudi, i killed my fifth buddy

I got a bad bitch and she likes to get dirty, i got my own swag and you know that

Just gettin you a job then i zip that broad tryina get in them walls like ghost dad

You know my swag is outstanding,

Hating my macking, they asking

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer

Though she pop me low, lookin’ for dat beaver

Did it all on my own

So i ended up all alone

If you know like i know, you should lie low

So i hoped out pronto, get my swag on a flow