This is a song about "Booty a mans"

Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics

But now i own yachts bigger than a lot of mans cribs

So pretty mama make that booty accessible,

Fumble or you crumble, get murked on the humble

While working on my mistakes

As this booty quakes lakes,

Phone in her back pocket made her booty call to say

Thinkin' why it's not south beach everyday

Bitches shake their booty

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Everybody watching while you touching real money

Big ass grabing on that booty, a lil diffrent is how my crew be,

But five years from now i bet she see

Once i beachu, ill slap dat booty