This is a song about "Writing a good son"

The mind on me just shine on them, you shadow women

Shit, come down, its not that much of a suprise son!

Instead of writing a rap, writing an essay

But more importantly taught me to pray

I'm the bastard son of a

So when ya see me nigga

This ain't a song i'm just respondin to denice's shit son

Dropping my gunor as high as a kite hitting hoes for fun

Rolling in more green than a hole in one

Are you honestly just tryin to be a nuisance son?

They say that karats help your vision

Cough up a lung where i'm from, the south son,

So i gotta spit to this

Writing rhymes is a fetish

And there's something you ain't seeing like i block your vision

Shrine in a timely fashion never been cought ain't tryna brag son