This is a song about "Your rubbish"

Where's your wealth? where's your fame?

Niggas taking shots, don’t know how to aim

Leave your running to your mamma,

Lucky seven probably poppa

And i'm not bragging, i'mma be in her

Your on fire.. your on fire

Sethered your spine, your movement lines

I'm standing on the field full of land mines

Fuck your prison, fuck your life

Chromed-out mansion in paradise

Your family, your friends,

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

That's your soul along with your principles and your morals

Every time she catch feelings she go throw away the gloves