This is a song about "Bitchhs ain t shit"

See me, i’d rather cut let ya body give birth

Sunglasses, hairstyle fashion doesn`t really matters

Ain t happenin!!! you bitches faker then 8 mannequins

Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns

College degree, scores on my s a t, shit, please,

If you see us in the club, we'll be actin' real nice

I’m tryna be low key to keep my self out of t

When you rapping how i'm rapping, they fellatio free

Girl no matter what you do you ain gonna cross the line,

Swear to god man it ain’t a rhyme, i grind for a piece of mine

Ready to bust, in the city you don't know who to trust

The sickest people couldn''t have even imagined

*aight now its time for t smallz to hop on dis shit*

Shorty throw it back and a nigga might love that

The sickest people couldn''t have even imagined

8 in the morning when that street clock bust