This is a song about "Abbreviation alteration aggravation confication"

Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit

No benefits still a nigga never hissy fit

End the segregation and all that aggravation

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Why don't i find it fit to just give up and slowly die.

Approach for contactcause i'm live i multiply

I thought this bitch had changed and maybe/

And the ladies, they lay me, they crazy

Some of you bitches look stupid as fuck

You betta get your change up

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

Open up confession to the problems i’m correcting

I got two whole tears in a bucket

My every words a perfect fit

Tell shorty i may change

Said her hearts, in a cage