This is a song about "Your shit dont make sense"

When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz

Hell-bent on denting any rapper who doesn't make sense/

If you say my scripts are shit, bitch you dont know your shit

You never play with young boys cause they never private

And everybody's having sex

I don't need your two cents, 'cause you make no sense.

Im a little tense in case this dont make no sense

Yeah months in every night she's in tears

If you say my scripts are shit, bitch you dont know your shit

I can say ghettoest ‘cause i come from where metal spit

I'm on deck i'm up next

The shit u say doesnt make sense

Life is good, simple, so dont make this shit difficult

Ready to bust, in the city you don't know who to trust

And you ain't bothered a bit now, baby

Ur rhyming flow is shit n' dont make sense to me,