This is a song about "By he s"

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Little does he know what they think when they walk by him

He wouldnt go by that forever and ever

"contemplate", i wrote about her

Don’t want nothing from a nigga; he all kinds of lame

Till you scream " what s my what s my name whats name!!!!

My bitches brighter always saying lights please

But soon he was stunned and surrounded by trees

Oh he was shot by other gangs/

Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps

Where the lips of your teen daughter sits, bitch

He makes sure to show them, inch by fucking inch

Hit it or four play

You know he flea by sunday