This is a song about "Ya mon"

I ain't, mad, at cha

Dont make me tomahawk ya,

Ya full of ya self, get ya cock out ya mouth before ya jump in this beef

Still hear that laughin' under breath while the orlando police

They claim it as their own, africa

Homie i gotta stop ya,

And i can't even trip, cause i'm just laughin at cha

Fantastics, grandmasters attending funerals past ya

Motherfucker i'm on to ya,

Monday night wrestling, i’m so fucking raw

Maybe i'll stuff ya, after taking out everything inside ya

The homies wanna kick it, but i'm just laughin at cha

I ain't mad at cha

Bitch i’m coming for ya.