This is a song about "Diss track on blonde girls"

So listen to the words that i preach on this track

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

I am the illest the mother fucker when i'm on the track,

We ain't having ittime to tear this shit back, ghetto children kick back

Big booty girls whining on me so slow

Friend or foe, niggas still can't tie the lace though

When i'm through, i'll probably let you take it back

You aint back on track,your murdered on a track

As i sit back and reminisce memories on a hardcore track

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

I'm tired of them talking smack on my track.

Den i tell that ho ain't no coming back

I don't know why i'm even on this track

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Who thinkin' they're big shots? runnin' on the fast track,

Dead faces keep my money in a body bag