This is a song about "Cultural contact"

Lights bulbs when wearin' that wig, flyin' kites

No contact, beer bottles, and random fights

Prepare for contact, i bomb tracks, sign off like a contract,

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

Checked her phone contact name of edna meyers

Better yet they work my every nerve

Only thing between me and your bitch is a latex

Chills go down my spine when we make eye contact [x3]

Chills go down my spine when we make eye contact [x3]

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Giving you up to seven minutes to contact your peers,

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag

I'm a psychopath with a viscous path to make fatal contact

Might want to purchase some game, homey your shit is so wack

Smiling in my face as you said that, making contract with ya contact