This is a song about "Zachs raps are whack"

Chillin' with homies and family

Your holy raps are to me

A 45 trey deuce spade sprayed, you stayed

Your raps are counterfeit, mine are homemade

My raps are nothin but dope.

I fucking hate this job

Your raps are so brain dead

She don’t give her nigga head

See i let my nigga split that

My raps are good, yours are bad..

Let's get my enemies not knowing i'm coming back

Skills you lack is more than ya bars,that are whack

These whack clowns are background rappers but i'mma crack down

You got that money that break – uh break- breakdown