This is a song about "You are not good at rapping"

Most of you are heartbroken, stop the rapping, and start smoking.

Escobar season begins, so let the semis ring

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

You tell me 'one strike,' well, good thing i was never good at math.

Stay in taxes we as good at you

She better shed a couple tears when she come through

I be rapping at you niggas like a lampoon

Made some moves, now i'm known to spit december in june

Hit it then i quit it ‘fore she even made the bed

Not like in the good old days when you looked up at me an said

I will not stop rapping till haters are on there knees giving me a crown

Heyyyy! got some static for some niggas on the other side of town

If he didn't have the price i'm asking

Though, to get back at point you suck at rapping

Let me attract your attention that you're ''singing'' not rapping, not rapping

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing