This is a song about "Ya poof"

Fresh to death, when i step, you can hear momma's cry

I'll detect ya wearing ya grandmothers sweater i

Watch out!...throw ya vest on ya chest,

Hold up yea we the best

But instead i got a sister, just like me with her mister nada

I'll give ya post traumatic stress disorder as my rhymes kill ya

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

That's right, heheheyo, i heard you got beat up by the police

Paranoia that shit might kill ya

To liberate yourself, africa

Out the homes lickety split *poof* like smoke

It's ironic they call me a fresh breath no joke

Early adapters agree they all late

The real deal ya know ya gotta wait