This is a song about "When i found out my crush talks to other girls"

I should've found out a sooner

Jt: didn't get a gift for her

We made fun out of our jazz talks

I put these poems all in these songs

Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed

I do my best, puff out my chest, just like the girls with no breast,

No fiction, mentally dis function,my mind talks why should i mention

I can't take a big l, my city needs me, i gotta win

I will crush this timid misfit with my lifted spirit

Fame is a drug i knew that before jay said that

Probably fuck up your budget, yea, i’m playing with numbers

Now i see you talking on the phone to all the other girls,