This is a song about "You talk too much smack"

I'm hoping that this letter reaches you

There's too much money that you withdrew

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

But i leave at that on paper, don't go to people and talk smack

I ask mr. west for a lil bit of hope realize us new niggas gotta get it ourself

Thank you for encouraging me to do my thing, and not worrying too much about yourself

Im like whats up, he says your too much of a og for this place, now leave before i smack your face,

I'mma keep it real kid i’m just hatinain’t a opportunity i ain’t take close chase

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

Fuckin' beat the shit out of him, watch 'em talk smack after,

Yeah months in every night she's in tears

To much killing around too much suspense.

Young money motherfucker we the shit

Too much greatness, you couldn't even grasp it

My rhymes pre-cise, i'm too much for you, like weed's price.

Uhh, addicts arise, when i arrive