This is a song about "Yours"

Hard to move on when you always regret one

But it's real shit comparing to yours, son.

Industry and the strings attached to yours

I flash smiles at the mean looks

Epic, they used to feed me detours

My rhymes are neat unlike yours,

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

So i wanna see what kinda fucked up shit is in yours

Well im doggod yours truly

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

And we was poor, but our life chances weren't better than yours,

And her little baby daughter really love them harry potter books