This is a song about "Cotton swabs"

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

Man i dread that through the dark nights like crimes of soft cotton

Until the day i put 100k inside her purse

Still ain't got no ice, only cotton sweaters.

Hit my peak, think i need a drink, cotton so bad call me joe. twist those bags rollin in dough.

In your ears as i kiss ya, on every curveslow down baby don't rush, i like it slow

If this was a game, i would be considered a mothafuckin' legend

When ever i think of you michael i allways fucking think "cotton bud"!

Oh-kay, here's the situation

Out in the cotton gin

Did you try and sniff some cotton fall off a cliff

Plus she outrun any youngin that i've hung with

It made its way home like a road map, i fathered this

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

Through thick and thin

Out in the cotton gin