This is a song about "Dillon murphy"

I'm at the atm, spending like i ain't paying rent

You cross dress like oscar de hoya, your life's a cock fest

Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for

Slick rick, de la soul, and rakim spit sicker,

Niggaz know lexxie is like a potato chip,

Whole team full of og’s packing fo-fo’s on the hip hip

I'm on the verge of excellence kill em off with no evidence

Wish i get i could produced by scoop de-ville, no need to take pills

Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point

Motor city's gritty, clowns like you get bent and then de-stroyed

Fif-tee /nine times till ya de-ceased/ im sick son new form of disease/

But all she ever want me to do is unzip her jeans