This is a song about "A babe"

Babe theres nothing here

Be yourself, just show me you're real

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

You're the luckiest girl babe

Influences are a dime a dozen

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

I was alerting her just to reinsert in her

They call you a whore, a bitch, a ho, and a stripper,

Like im tommy lee and she's that babe pam

Fuck it, its hip hop and niggas don't give a damn

But is you trynna be dinner

I'm a liar, i'm a sinner

A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon

And you down, hold it down for my nigga them