This is a song about "Chimp buttocks"

They were living to strive, two stories with a main point

You niggas under cars you should be unemployed

Now here's the point where you might think

Gotta keep at it, gotta stay focused

My style is on point like a decimal/

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Cops wanna cuff you, niggas wanna clap you

In a serial killers point of view

Backing up, like juvenile biggest fan was a moving truck

Hey ''kid'', remind me to stick this screwdriver in your mommas butt

Then got high from butt plugs

Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts

I beach chair, with my malibu vision

It's only a dream, check point reality one

Maine, bay, the burf baby i'mma book ya' flight

I'm lost for words from the wire pasted on her backside