This is a song about "Beau howe"

But you must sell a tall tale of a dell and a florist named nel

And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is fucking chanel

To understand that the fucking faggot didn't like me much

Like soldiers charging up the hills, and dropping agent orange,

And im sure, that flew over your head/

And if you had more street cred then you'd be dead

Before she fuck with ya head

So if i do call it's just a check

That's boa, see that's my set

Black clouds circle my weary head

I'm writing this off my head

Code red, which means you go red

Think you're fresh? talk to will smith. i've rocked these hills since

These hoes thuggin, these nigga's bitches don’t know the difference

Disappointment in my head

Im trying to see her in bed