This is a song about "Five"

Yo....you know i'm five seven/

I told him get his 9 and run

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

With just twenty five bucks in his wallet

I find dimes like nine - five

I'm the author for gangsters, tough guys

Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice

And when i get those mics you know i must score five

But the love from the boppers had 'him watchin they rise

I was bitten by a dog in (two thousand and five)

Show ‘em how much they really mean

Five minutes later i hear a scream,

Roll up to a five star luxury

Cause i ain't worriedeyes blurry