This is a song about "Birth control"

She lashes at me, out of control,

My goal is going gold with out selling my soul

When you birth from explosion,

Can’t you see just how long my run

She don't really care about anyone advice

His d*** is smaller than a birth control device,

It was just the four of us uptown corners

I am of blue blood, had a noble birth

Y'all know justin, his flow on control,

Do you get brains, did you make the honor roll

Been given birth in war, a castle that traps a lord

Dad wasn't around -- my father figure was too short

Yo, birth of a real nigga,

They claim it as their own, africa

Look out below, there is no inventory control

Life is like a phone booth, these pigeons is the fuckin' toll