This is a song about "Bitches in my old phone"

Your flow is more fucked than the bitches in my bronco

Shawty open your soul, pray that protools agree though

In my old school, with the naughty

Busta-ass motherfuckers tried to flee

Sit here on my phone in my room all alone

Better than college, after that, students home

Uhh im underated but i got multimillion dollar songs on my phone,

But oh i can’t stay away, not never, your my home, home, home

In your gold pot addin' extra sauce because

Bad bitches in my office, call it bad business.

Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,

Say what you want i'm immature like roger go home

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

But i will be my old self again in no time

My mother walkin' in, saw i was on my phone

I'm definitely in a class of my own