This is a song about "Corn rows"

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

All these grave stones kept in clean little rows,

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

All these grave stones are kept in clean little rows,

While im eating an ear of corn

December 4th a star was born

Thats just not how the fuck it goes, so bitch, sit the fuck down, in the rows

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

Man i swear she's bad and she knows

And my ex hoes, she pop ex rows

If i take an oath that mean i give up all my area code hoes

For those you claim friends commit, get in the thunder cold, plant the rows

No more rows and conflicts punches or kicks/ think don't feel, be static/

Do not give a fuck i've got the swagger of a virgin's dick

Because now a nigga hot enough to fuck with one of satan' hoes

Flow so cold that i got that all the bitches standing in rows