This is a song about "Were ya at"

Ok i’m wale but you can call me nada

I'm not gonna lie their were fine girls, i'm telling ya

We are being wiped off the face of this earth

For sure, you were made special at birth.

You need money holla at ya boy honey

Heavy weed smoker, get ounces for free

You're lonely and depressed you need a thug in your life

Talked to my homies bout ya like you were my wife

Sickness coming at ya but ya already dead

Making love to the streets, they be lusting for bread

Fed up with all the frauds and left y'all without a job

If you were pinocchio you'd blow coke until ya nose broke.

I'm the king rapper, take a swing at ya,

Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah