This is a song about "Call your mama"

Call me on your eighteenth

Tw-tw-twelve carats and that's all ears

// [you can call out your guards]

I got these tats all on my arms

She got mad i leaned over, i'm nursing her

If thats your job, call me the saboteur.

Give your mother a call, bring your girlfriend roses,

Yeah months in every night she's in tears

But i overshine ain't no niggas over sean

Police on your mama phone, talking bout your baby gone//

Please correct me, stretch marks

// [you can call out your guards]

And where we've come and how we still have to go really far

And i would have brought your mama but she's greasier than you are