This is a song about "Call of du"

I got my du-rag on with my fitted sittin’ on it

I ain't trying to conflict: nickels to dimes and shit

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

They call me grim reaper, i'm the snatcher of souls,

Just gettin you a job then i zip that broad tryina get in them walls like ghost dad

I gotta cadillac rollin up to fon du lac feelin up my girl in back,

Got a sweet sixteen and they deadlier than sin

I'm the armor of hip-hop, they call me protection/

She's tryna fall back, cuz she say i'm all that

Your level of slut's off the graph, call you uncharted/

Paintin perfect pictures ain't never worked, my misery

Call me the bigness i'm in the business of lyrical wizardry

I got my du-rag on with my fitted sittin’ on it

All you fucking bloggin' faggots yappin' up that extra shit