This is a song about "Four square"

Left hand staggerin' on her muthafuckin' breast

Hit me square in the chest, wasn't wearing a vest

But not with a four four, but with more of a score

Controling my steamknowing my team to deserve more

Four more tarts playing harps

Tire marks, tire marks

The money gets closer when you seem to be grindin' more

So when i kick in the door, not waving the four four

My lungs are filled with tar, i just keep smoking that marb red square,

It's been a weekend, five starrin' in her underwear

And making sure the times square screen shows their dick pic

Just like a cannon from the teen in nick

Turn off the lights

Connect four,connect rhymes

I got these tats all on my arms

Four more tarts playing harps