This is a song about "Citing your scources"

Your lyres are cheat so hold your pen open your book-let

I ain't trying to conflict: nickels to dimes and shit

I'm fittin' shit, your hatin' it, your littleness, your genitals.

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

Your family, your friends,

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

Freezing your nose, your eyes, your corneas,

Trying to get back to this thing called love

The jiggas and the tips

Fuck your bars, fuck your demons,

That's your soul along with your principles and your morals

Together all the timethought it was true love

Make them more insecure when they caught one

Citing blues jives as their night's dampen