This is a song about "Weak ass rap"

These weak ass emcee's got me questioning my sanity.

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

Seein' dreams in they sleep

My skills they are all weak

You know they got me trapped in this prison of seclusionhappiness, living on the streets is a delusion

Those weak ass basic already used punch lines are nothing more than a voter optical illusion

All i wanna do is sit back and watch you move and i'll proceed to throw this cash

Forget it its in the past memories pass i rather not rap about guns, drugs, and ass,

My rap fucked you harder than when your dad fucks you in the ass.

I was watching, remote pleaseniggas want what they can't have

Making his own fucking beats, covers, videos and all that shit

Your last rap before your ass is in a casket, we're passing it,

Damn, you rap shit, crying gangsters, the type of ass that

Like bobby had whitney we was cooking up crack