This is a song about "Finga on a trigga"

Got a bounty on me

But am i less holy

Its a funeral on april twentieth,

He ain't touching me like martin sheen's penis

Raw, like a hard on wit no condom on

Come on kids, fuck that class and hit that bong

Come on just "take a hit"/

I be on some other shit

I’m simply fuckin’ with bitches that know they whole position

The fiction they cookin' in the kitchen, nothing worth finga lickin'

And get on a flight today

What you want me to say