This is a song about "Baby at 15"

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

This aint drug money, baby it's thug money and love money,

Every time i see you at the club you gettin’ low baby

Am i crazy? maybe, but fucked up is how i been lately

If you was, i would climb every other stair, i gotta stare

Baby i ain't liping, i just tend to keep my city there

Give me a reasoning to believe that baby you and me,

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

Anna baby, stay strong, and wipe them tears rollin down your face

Cause all you got now is too much room space, shoe space

Niggas taking shots, don’t know how to aim

In my brain, but at least baby girl's not in pain.

Ain't no better swimming in the ocean of your lady

Ya first song was chronic masturbator, mines fuck ya baby,

Cause they don't give a fuck about usbut when i start to rise

No more worrying at all, baby i just wanna live