This is a song about "Crying momma"

Locked in my room yeah, but i got some plans momma

The beer flowin' like water, louie bag with the prada

Pimpin' this shit up, hittin' ho's, yet respect for my momma.

I make music for a reason, didn't vote obama

I reel them in, goadomes on see

One day my momma told me

I'm a king.you should kiss my pinky ring

His dad picks him up and asks why is he crying

Kids crying in the background

So don't ask me why they strung out

Commit suicide, slit your throat, they find your mom crying

Escobar season begins, so let the semis ring

Madonna momma, body bottled, you're fine. i'm finer

I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her

Im done with the tears homie im no longer crying

Oh how i hated everyone therethe baby lie here dying