This is a song about "Butches ain t shit"

I wouldn´t diss my own mum,

Bet i get like 8 of them

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

Done be ashamed-it ain't no thang, i used to blow trees

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Master big t with the fire it's astounding,

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

Wolf gang pete and gon' live, running outta time

You don;t thin anymore

No ho, acquainted with the floor

Guess you could call me by my name b double o t.

Lock my heart up, this is jail, throw away the key

Chat up your lookin off your knee pad

Rat t-t-t-tatted up on my back