This is a song about "Fufu lame sh"

I like my thoughts filled with lame

Now that's what you call a game

I don't toot my own horn but i'm a cold train

Shame, people dreaming of fame, it's lame

Gangsters are pussies and thugs are lame

Im courtside, wizard game

And you wont need him cause ya main man lame

She my billie jean we menage with mary jane

I got that goodman game

And it makes me feel one way, lame,

Givin' 'em a wet, welcome to the house of pain

Hard to differentiate vaughn and this cocky lame

Never over, an ending, that's just lame.

Through all that rain, i kept my flame

Shame, people dreaming of fame, it's lame

Just plain pat visions with some sick aim