This is a song about "Flexin n finessin"

Made a million with the pen

Sure he died in 96 n

Suit 'n tie, saggy's 'n rag, say goodbye, in the body bag.

Spit that raw shit, y'all some talkative condoms, fall back

More mistakes could be made ‘n

Though uncalled for, they gon drop them

I just open up easier when i talk through a mic

They'l diss your dissonance n' rip your ligaments 'n' dick quick

Later, n peace, even tho,

And you cute, shorty; let's get low

You mental state deteriorates n,

I came through with diseased semen on my pen

N she cud be a bitch n suck a dick

Make room for the groom married to his music