Nail In The Coffin (Freestyle) Lyrics – Token

Nail In The Coffin (Freestyle) Lyrics Meaning

He’s talking about running into rappers who act like they’re tough or authentic, but when you look closer, their behavior doesn’t match what they say in their songs. It makes him question who around him is actually being real and who’s pretending. He feels like he’s orbiting people who might not be honest, and that bothers him because he really pays attention to people’s character.

He brings up Hopsin, saying that Hopsin took him around the world and that even though people make fun of Hopsin sometimes, he knows Hopsin is sincere and puts his heart into his craft. Whether or not they’re still close, he still appreciates him because Hopsin gave him his first glimpse of what success feels like.

He talks about setting high standards for himself, mentioning his business and how he avoids taking big losses. He jokes that the only time you’ll see his name next to a big “L” is on his credit card. But he admits he’s taken plenty of small losses, the type that you learn from and can maneuver through even in the dark.

Now he feels like he’s in such a good place creatively and career-wise that he could drop something silly or random and it would still go viral. He’s comparing his loyal fanbase to the way South Park uses tokens—basically saying he has so many supporters that he can’t be dismissed or treated like a joke.

He mentions someone threatening him recently, and he mocks how empty that threat was. He uses food metaphors to clown the guy, saying he put “two wings next to a slider,” basically playing around with wordplay to show he isn’t scared and can flip anything into a punchline.

He says if someone claims to be a sharpshooter, they should act like it, because he can turn chaos into a show. He contrasts where he performed—a real venue—with where the other guy was, suggesting the person hasn’t achieved much. His lines get more aggressive as he compares himself to sharp objects and describes how he metaphorically destroys his competition.

He keeps adding layers to the food and weapon imagery, talking about being precise, dangerous, and elevated. He paints a picture of himself as someone who can slice through anything in his way. He also brags about leveling up—from humble places to high-level ones—showing how far he’s come.

He says he can start things whenever he wants, and references a “big man” having a stroke, which sparked him to spread his wings, almost like a swimmer doing a breaststroke. The idea is that after that moment, he became more open, more driven, and more active.

He notices that everyone around him now seems to be armed or on guard. His energy or presence makes people want to protect themselves. That makes him uneasy because he can feel the tension in every handshake and can’t tell whether people are simply nervous or if jealousy is creeping in.

He says it used to be easier to tell who was genuine back when he wasn’t as successful. Now that he’s more established, he carries more stress because it’s harder to read people. Everyone smiles at him, but all the smiles look fake. He brings up painful memories—people he trusted before who betrayed him. Those fake smiles remind him of being robbed by someone he trusted when he was young.

He recalls the same type of fake friendliness from his dad’s girlfriend, who tried to use his father’s death to manipulate him for money even though they barely had a relationship. It stung because she pretended to care just to get close to him.

He mentions how his ex did the same thing—telling him she loved him, then immediately cheating with her previous partner. He admits he took her back because he felt insecure at that time. He says most people have been cheated on at least once; many just don’t know it.

He talks about how rap critics who discovered him when he was a teenager still see him as that kid. Because of that, they constantly judge him, try to correct him, and act like they know more than he does. He’s frustrated because he’s grown tremendously since then and believes he deserves to be seen as an adult with a strong artistic identity.

He explains that he spent half his life trying to block out memories of his father. When his father died, strangers online told him to stop mentioning him in songs and to get over it. He pushes back, saying that the only time he can mentally process his father is when he writes about him. Outside of music, he avoids those thoughts completely, so writing is his only outlet.

He says that after he’s done making music someday, those thoughts won’t surface anymore, so he won’t let anyone tell him to stop expressing himself. His DMs are filled with people who’ve struggled with addiction, who recognize the warning signs in him and worry he might go down the same path. They tell him to get help, and he’s honest about being at the doctor’s office again, but he insists he’ll discuss it on his own terms.

He addresses people questioning his health, appearance, and habits. Fans notice changes—weight loss, restlessness, bags under his eyes—and they assume something is wrong. He finds it interesting that people still don’t know the real story. He says the truth is actually simple: the only place he expresses his deepest struggles is in his music.

He admits that sometimes he wonders whether he’s oversharing or whether he’s losing track of what’s private or personal, simply because he’s been so open for so long. But he also feels like he’s built for this lifestyle. He’s been writing seriously for twenty years, even though he’s still young, and he’s always tried to be honest in his work.

Finally, he says that if someone has something to say to him, they should keep it to themselves unless it’s real and meaningful. He doesn’t want to hear empty criticism or fake advice anymore because he’s confident in how far he’s come and how well he knows his craft.