This is a song about "Baby killer natasha"

First line & (sugar hill baby, sugar hill baby)

Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

The next god of thriller, a mother fucking serial killer,

But is you trynna be dinner

I slay em like a #serial #killer

To the homestead suites to drink liquor

Blasting psychill, poppin' brain killer

Rollin' with my baby

Rose cases, we pop daily

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

I don't do the chasing hun, i'm a made killer

I got to be your baby

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free