This is a song about "Cuban missile crisis and fat hoones"

And sanctified, niggas got they pockets fat, overweight,

Go ahead admit it faggot, this shit is tighter than butt rape

She need now, she ain't never needed love

In a rise from my crisis

Don’t you be holding back, your love

From this identity crisis.......

From this identity crisis.......

You why she buy devices

Now you know you shoulda ducked nigga

Yellin and merk off fat dog food purina

And when the pistol shots and missile drop flips hit,

Every day was a saturday, shit

Where fiends always on that water like a lily pad

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat