This is a song about "Ceiling fans"

Just tell me that i ever meant anything

I have your girl kneeling right underneath the ceiling

True nigga in the building getting paper under the ceiling,

Put that on everything these other bitches anything

Chained as my slaves, my die hard fans

We getting money, you can face the facts

No wonder i have fans

Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps

And if i'm down with this banging shit

Everyday my fans confirm it

With a note there and im thinking of reading

Slit they throats while they hanging from the ceiling

Stacks on deck, bitch we stackin money to the ceiling

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

So that make you a queen, surviving anything

He gave me some excuse like he's dancing on the ceiling