This is a song about "Yall haters"

So yall people best be leaving

Tell them niggas they sleeping

He lying i’m on papers

Too good for them haters

And i swear, my lord, i been down to earth

Deuces to the haters, yall just instigators.

Yall act like yall can't see my my talent, i got skepticism

With a tear they try to tell me but i never listen

Cold, my style making my nose run

Listen, i shine while yall glisten

Niggas with these bombs that yall think yall got

It's like i just hit the lottery, my god

Patron black, uh, patron jones

Yall sweeter than ice cream cones

With ocd yall cant touch me

Bitch, i might make you my baby