This is a song about "Call your cusin"

I like my hoodies fucked with lame

Shut your mouth, call you bane

Can you prove there's something you can call your breasts?

I think i've got some enemies disguised as friends

// [you can call out your guards]

I got these tats all on my arms

All right, they call me the professor, but you can call me your successor

Rozay told me keep on working, shawty you’ll be rich forever, ever

Quit your job call your boss a slob who needs a wash

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks

Call your girl up and meet her/

Its four now, the clubs over

Turn your face pale white call that michael jackson

I hit your block and we can box for fun

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

After all that shit you still call me baby in your arms