This is a song about "Banging on boys"

Walk that body, talk that body

Boys tell me they love me

I’m coming back like light-skin and

I got that that banging heat headband

Us bitches are learning to run these boys

No blunts, lil' bro wan' roll up joints

And run with motherfuckin' crews banging, controllin' blocks,

Slangin' rocks with your glocks put this tape in your box

I ain't happy with the score

Banging on the back door,

Teens turn to annoyed zombies and feast on the boys in abercrombie

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

I'm the beuaty queen b with gangster status that's banging

Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring

Loud shit, weird noise

Wait barbies arnt for boys,