This is a song about "Babymomma"

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

You might collapse and take a nap for all of eternity

Im a better rapper that is non fiction, i got better diction that i must admit

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Bow your heads-i see the lines of my beaten artist hearses.