This is a song about "Your ryhmes are trash"

But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas

And 53 percent of whites are just seen as "gutter trash",

Your rhymes are nuclear but mine are demonic

Swallow the cinnamon, i'mma scribble this sin and shit

Two dyke jawns but tonight they straight

Your raps are counterfeit, mine are homemade

Now you gotta understand i was a family man

Your rhymes stink, like rotten bananas in a trash can,

All you fucking bloggin' faggots yappin' up that extra shit

Trash your shit with classic spit human turantula he has been bit

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

Comin' up to kill me but your motherfuckin rap's trash,

You know that whites are trailer-dwelling trash rednecks,

Looking for dangerously hot bitches and safe sex

Can't beleive the ryhmes i have read

That sick set, tryna get my kickflips wet