This is a song about "Where are the fucking lame rappers"

As to me all the other rappers are just clay

Foreplay rewardin' her on her long day

They keep on sayin’ the same rappers are the best

I guess that’s why all of these niggas get bent

Deep in the regions where trenches are reasons

Up all night with college hoes, edibles and bong hits

Money ain't a thing

Where the kids are raving

Rappers are actors back in the game, just to make a milli,

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

Blew twenty bands in that king of diamonds

Haters are lame, and they sloppy as seconds

The radio is lame, and the record labels are to blame, they just want fame

And showing you and yours that breaking rules is fucking cool again

Is a space that now you hold

Where the floor boards are so cold,