This is a song about "Bad homes"

Shit grand like a muh-fucking bass load

Out the homes lickety split *poof* like smoke

Stoned with his friends while throwing shit at the neighbours homes

Fans catch us on animal planet, tracking hoes

To havin' good homes, never is my stomach growlin',

Mix a little syrup, it ain't no way to cure him

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

I'll put you in your place, and i don't even sell homes

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

I'll probably re-visit those old shotgun homes and trailer parks,

Spit fishscale mix it up in rental homes

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

And i got a foot fetish, so i probably have sex with your toes

I'm supposed to flow and so i'm dope, i rap for broken homes,

I'm cool with all these broads in here but i do not date lucaya hoes

Without choice or hope to voice our own noiseless mope of far away homes