This is a song about "Clintons hairline"

Step in the club and it's all eyes, champagne i sip mine

For half of the time, who's the mastermind behind that little line

You're the punch line of every rhyme that i spit.

When they hate, i never give a whole fuck, or half shit

Yeah, punch line after punch line, rhyme after rhyme/

I be on the highway dirty, crunch time

Until the end if time

I shoot from the 3 pointer line

Getting head counting bread, at the same down time

Began slow now i can write rhymes line after line

Like hoes down in magic city

Sometimes all i see is the bright blue tree

You niggas under cars you should be unemployed

I rap in this joint, but nothing will ever point

Shit, see that thing there was mine

But have a meaning in each line