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

She ain't tryna go low, go head home

Out at night mama hit my phone

I'm definitely in a class of my own

Everyday calling my mom on her cellular phone.

Needles in my alley history of murders and rapes,my area is old as hell

I turtle-shell niggasin harold and bell, niggaseat you like lunch, before the bell

Nothin sweet when i attend, see

In my old school, with the naughty

Proud of it all defensive fuck i'm rocking alone

It feel just like i get lyrics off my phone

Drink whatever's left, kill the pussy, tombstone

Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,

Stop blowin up my phone

Baby im in the zone

She screamed but i bashed her head in with a cordless phone.

You gon' miss a good thing, end up bitter alone