This is a song about "Dyed hair"

Momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair

A bunch of temptation facing when your wife ain’t there

Televised everywhere i dyed and remember

My pocket's fat, somebody check my blood pressure

Look what i got here, color black is my hair

She tried to call home mom dukes ain't care

Plus you gotta rewrite those lines that you said about michaels hair

But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there

I held her hands, her tilted stance, and her dyed strands of rebel hair,

Meet me in the tele where the lobby at, i'm probably there

I'm sick enough to steal your cat, tear out all his hair,

We missed you on the charts last week, damn, that's right you wasn't there

All of the hair from out my head

My god come before this bread

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Fuck barack’s change, we’d rather talk milian’s hair