This is a song about "Aaron amp amp amp"

Wolf gang, triple six crew

Well how about i murder you

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

I raped her riped her up,on bed sheets supper time big feeds my needs

Ships that sail to distant places

You can push me aside and rush

Your life is a product of trash

I mean turn up the bass

Push on top, as if i never dropped and

That happen to act like a black president

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

Step up if you think your a contender ill leave you tender

Plus 11-99 in his muthafuckin' chest

Well simply to be the best

And my kick game beyond crazy

I got a rappin key.