This is a song about "Y all ain t got shit on me"

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

All you heard is aye-pext don t hit me no more/

I keep a level head, gettin high layin low

Painting vivid pictures call me pablo y picasso,

Come-on mr. fool show me what you got , seems like you don't know anything about rapping at all

I recollect we used to ball now just living's enoughi stand tall in the winter summer spring or fall

See 'n agree me on b. b. c or m. t. v.

Got some pocket change too, now ya workin' baby

But primetime got nothin on me

Take your time when you’re with me baby

Smack 'em out the park, delete their number, that's my last call

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

Backwoods don’t do papers, that was just for my haters

Seeing the world got me putting shit on my shoulders