This is a song about "Your all talk"

But all your memos talk about shit like ghetto echos,

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

He took it to pitchfork, he couldn't get a sentence

Talk about all the wrongs with barley any good things,

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

I like bitches in air maxes without socks

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

All talk like they'd attacked me well, shit..i guess im rowdy

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

Tell me, if you lived in poverty all of your life you wouldn't really talk money,

But all your memos talk about shit like ghetto echos,

If i take an oath that mean i give up all my area code hoes

That i talk back to your every word

Oh, a taco joke, domo smoke, i heard

If it's me that catch you, you're fried

Talk about me through your sub tweet