This is a song about "Were i m from"

Go for mine, that ball shit, pour ciroc 'til i'm nauseous

I m stuck with my laptop in this shitty office...

And i feared that my fans say i failed

I'm a, p-i-m-p, like fiddy explained

My eyes were barely opened it looked like i was from hong kong

Me and juan ensurin' you that your slut daughters gone

A photographic memory, i'm never gonna lose

I ran away from truth, lyrics were judgement, the beat was a noose

I be calling out game like miles at the farms

Hey y'all i''m sick like necrophiliacs in graveyards

This flow so slow, i`m so slick,

I never crack i got that chap stick