This is a song about "Y all"

Dmv so we used to the waiting

Y you bitches think that im still playing,

They gon keep on watching, give em something to see

'coz how the fuck can you be friends with a craz-y

I never back up like cleo lemon on myself

His flow is hole-y like the edge of abalone shells

No, i can’t called bitch i’m lying, i don’t use my phone, shit

Z-y-l-o/ the thoughts in my head are problematic

And i got a foot fetish, so i probably have sex with your toes

Y u cryin? "gimme back my back" no bitch its mine, i rap not for your souls

So you x'd with a "why," y is the path

From the jungle, fam, where niggas bundle grams

My pride is gone, i'm that guy like aaron hall

Bored stiff so ya mock six pox-y / names on the wall.

I like a down-lookin, all for it, flower bomb

Didn't want you to mistake me that's y i wrote this song