This is a song about "Abbreviation alteration aggravation confication"

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit

Let the syllable kid from singapore spit in a cynical fit

You kidding meit's really nothing to me and my king

No affection for women obsessin bout correcting

I probably would wear 'em but my dick don't fit

And they say i'm over heads cuz they don't understand... that

Truck fit fuck that hilfiger

Poke out from behind her

Old me, always new me, changes, it ranges in insanity reality, me

I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deepi guess it's hard for you to see

You, you, you have to pay for that

But i know it wont fit

What up girl, tell me how you been

She wanted to fit in

Couple of ‘em dimes, but all my hoes is hard to find

I'm pretty sure i should of died, my altered state of mind