This is a song about "Classifications of triangles"

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs

She said my love is outta here

Using blacks of course was of wide appeal

Epic, they used to feed me detours

I'ma part of yours i'ma tale of yours

Hoes pop from the corda to hope park

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Know give me a head start

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit

A little more of me through generation of a debate of hatred

Of being of always getting wired

Being broke and it's a diddy ass world

The people scared of annihilation when kingdom come

Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon