This is a song about "You lying"

I was like a young simba couldn’t wait to be the king

But they ask me,is that piece real or are you lying?

Then again you might be lying

I got my wife, so fuck the ring

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

Ghost-writers help you rhyme that's what lying discovers

Im not trying because im sick of lying, im dreaming about dying, but not from you,

But in real life they eyes is on your moneysee the enemies will say they true

Not concerned with most rappers me i'm a king

Bullets flying, fake homies lying

They thought it was a joke they thought you was lying

So, suicide i perceive, before i slide on that ring

And my only fear's a wedding ring

Tired of people lying

You think im lying now little bitch probably not

The clientele buy and sell like a pawn shop