This is a song about "Bridget the midget"

Yeahehehehe nigga, we be the ballin player-ass nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Need myself a twin midget so i can have a mini me,

Loaded that clip and then said bang, the drama it bring is crazy

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

A photographic memory, i'm never gonna lose

‘cause i’m addicted and you the drug, cold turkey? no sir

Dial the humidifier, arrange the amplifier/

I'm screaming for help, as loud as i can but that's not working

So if there's any midget willing to tackle the king

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

Got the passion for the music

You're fucking with me, nigga

I bring the heat like the

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

Huh, a metaphor of course