This is a song about "You got my leftovers"

I don't really know what the fuck's in my cup

Got my spoon tucked, you know im a thug

And i was getting whipped at home in sixth grade

When you see my life you think that i've got it made

My raps are like a curveball and i got you kinda guessin'

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

Baby you summertime fine, i'll let you get on top

You got nothing, you sprint to keep up with my jog

Here’s a tissue for you bitches

You got head from my girl? yea rite. you wish

Wish, that he will be bless me with a few more

Now my dicks got a rash i need you to care for

My name itself got you goin’ insane

I like my hoodies fucked with lame