This is a song about "Fire in the poop deck"

Don't always fuck me good, i'm just too cheap to divorce her

You guys are making the innocent live in a dumpster fire

Beautiful are thou, africa

I poop so hard my face farts to the

His neck was stuck inside the tape deck,

Im trying to see her in bed

I never change, i'm like a corpse in a coffin, six feet shit's deep

No desire to spark beef, light a fire in the dark street

Only real niggas stay on top

My whole deck in my hands, cream of the crop

Spitting fire without condoms the in pop filter

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute

One day i took you into the front yard to pee and poop

Like poop smeared on the walls

And of course, my car's off course