This is a song about "Birmingham al"

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good

These are al the symptoms of growing up in tha hood.

Al give ye a tip seen as ye you canny see me visually

You got ben's arranged money, have a benz or range money

So kids say fuck school don't follow the rules they'll al be asking for your money

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Tonights gonna be a fuckin' fight

Al-right, continue to impose my might.

We bundys you al but i'm teddy

Headband endo, ya'll ain't ready

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Mixed with diluted cider brewed with, tools from al-qaeda units

Birmingham to new orleans, yeah i will smash the town,

This my album, and when your parents try to come around

Used to nun-chuck em, now i got to donatello bow

My path of destruction leaves disaster like al pacino,