This is a song about "661"

I said move on son, there ain't nothing to see

Taking some bath salts, screaming "where is your face, b?!?!!"

Or do you buckle your knees when you're hit,

B. mac, we running this rap shit

Fuck you niggas talkin' 'bout, soundin' like la-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do

I am the kinda guy waiting for a fuckin prophecy. i shit on the mic like the rhino