This is a song about "Flat tires"

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

He's a nightrider, flame of hellfire on both of his tires

Set you on fire like tires breaking apart your moral fibers

Probably fuck up your budget, yea, i’m playing with numbers

Double d's indeed, she is not flat

And i give it to y'all, cause y'all respect that

Tires screech on that road ground

I just might throw a big amount

Fans catch us on animal planet, tracking hoes

Never flat footed, i’m always on my toes

Laid-flat like a tapestry,

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

See i let my nigga split that

Basketball, you are flat

And i'm not about to let my lyrics become flat

Moms really getting mad when i call you that