This is a song about "Any tut"

Cause in the end girl you’re gonna want another round, another round

But the fucking bank account, any any any amount

And get on down with this thc vision

I'll piss off any christian

Any sings of foul stench,

I'm making moves, check my french

Just lay your head on my shoulder

Who cant get any broker

A lot of women is real, some bitches robin given

Killing the competition, without any permission,

His reputation can't get any lower

Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for

Get grand slam fans out of they seats

Attain it by any means