This is a song about "Who makes up these raps i m curious"

My raps were straight up lame, i didn't have a flame

Relax, take ya coat off, and let me getcha name

Takin' shots of poon juice to the head for a cheap thrill

Nate, you could never keep up with the raps i kill

We are being wiped off the face of this earth

At 16 years old,i`m bettter than these haters

That makes up my product. every time i rap, the haters

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse

Like my remy with no juice, you a lot like bishop

I write these angry raps on my paper to try and open up,

Seeing kids looking up to these celebreties who make bad

Woof, bitch, top doglay yo girl face on my lap, let her play with my sack

Who stays up at night just writing raps

Now if you give us a chance

We getting money, you can face the facts

I fucking hate the dirtbags featured in these raps