This is a song about "F"

And they wonder why these california earthquakes hit so hard

Never even seen an 'f' slashed on my report card.

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

How could i not blow? all i do is drop "f" bombs

You were wrong and have no f*cking invitation,

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

But i just can't stand how f***** up the whole world is

It made its way home like a road map, i fathered this

With this old half a man, yaknowhati'msayin?i ain't tryin to put you in a position

I see a f-cken stargot your momma screamingfor me, like i'm eldebargelookin at my skin

Just bodied versace, they not me so f them

I hope you studied because he's testing your faith again

F u are my favorite letters

Oldest nation on this earth

Be careful and get ready to f*ckin cry

Letter to the ghetto, hold your head high