This is a song about "Crispy dookie cheeks"

Runs from cheeks when they cry, money hungry thieves lovely monthly fees

Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys

With rhyming skills, you in amish village

Fuck you little pussy ur cheeks are pink, 218 bitch.

They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint

Khakis pressed, nike shoes crispy and fresh laced, so i guess it ain't

Bitch is crispy, i'm overcooking

But he don't rule a thing

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

The kind this kid eats/hit you wit fists n feet /2 ur lips n cheeks/

She choked 'n' frowned as tears were rolling down her cheeks 'n' soaked the ground

Told me mary was a go so we passed her round and round

I'm waking up with something 20-something fly shit

Cheeks feeling flaccid but you need it for your habit

Pick her up and then i'll let her wiggle them ass cheeks

Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats