This is a song about "Yours truly"

I flash smiles at the mean looks

I aint about to pay for yours.

Their lives are similar to yours

Epic, they used to feed me detours

Always speak your mind, to yours truly

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

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

I fry niggas come at me than you might get yours

Women front, they get its cold

Are so good while yours are mold

If you know like i know, you should lie low

Keeping yours stuck like packed up snow.