This is a song about "40 s"

And if we don't we'll have a race of babies

My 40 dick longer than a bitch weave

Shout out bobby on hundreds

But i don’t mean top 40 hits

Cause everythang gonna be alright

40 bullets straight at ya wind pipe

Liquor stores with the 40's, young niggas bite metal, shit,

So tell me i ain't shit, go and embellish it a bit

See baby lately seems my life been hell and heaven knows

Drinkin' 40's, whippin' shit, and talkin' shit, their overtones,

Welcome to the dirty south,we don't have 40's it's a 30 ounce

I step through the stomach, replace the baby with some fucking pounds

Eatin nubo dishes, with my soul food princess

You know they bangin' in the car harder than 808's,