This is a song about "All the butts"

Where i from, it get cold

Cause the tickets all sold

Put em in handcuffs, fucked their butts

Or closed casket for our troubles

Plus all the destruction.

Gin makes me sin

Yall look like chris kattan, yall prefer male butts

And finally, everyone got their own problems

Just me and my two of my dudes, blue man crew

All the good times and all times we said i love you

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Switching topics up, as fast as i smack these lacking rappers' butts

Bring your pen and your weed stash

All bout the game, nothin bout the cash

Theres blood all over the ground

Everytime you come around