This is a song about "Dad romaine"

I will leave you wrapped in a bag. after phone your dad,

Make sure it's mean so them fiends keep on coming back

Ball dreams of being pointguard was off limits jack

You shouldn't even call yourselves a mom and dad

Thats what my dad was doing

Let my angel sing

My dick romaine lettuce and yours some stank ass cabbage

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

Called that bitch my quaterback, wild cat all that

Then i would spit like yo fuckin dad

You can feel it via spirit

But my dad didnt make it