This is a song about "Chipmunk my g"

With a fronted silent g.

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Castrate madness wif cage freed from kassem g

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

Trying hard to speak and

My g"s have been handcuffed,

A demon that feeds of my inner g

For shootin' done to you or we're losin' money

Im a emcee heavy weight,quicker than g

Highest form of respect, if you say you're not ready

Master, bubba, and lemon g,

Cause im on sum g shityoung money

But five years from now i bet she see

Can't play me by throwin a fake g/

I’m at dulles with luggage fly straight to the money

And my posse they are with me so don't cry you shit g