This is a song about "Bob the warrior"

Easy baby my thing tight, but that lotus flower just ain't right

A warrior, a soldier, or a sniper eyeing down line of sight

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Yeahehehehe nigga, we be the ballin player-ass nigga

Yeah i'm gon' leave with her

And peace to this young warrior,

Yes siree 'bob', i was thinking the same thang

Put burners in the hands, of the black man

Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence

Rage, pain, was blown away in the wind like bob dylan's,

Sponge bob bitch,"im ready"

Let me rideuntil i get free

Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she

Call me a warrior, not because i like curry

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

And of course, my car's off course