This is a song about "G o b"

Shady, fifty, d.r.e., d o double g,

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

Tell me i ain't god's son, nigga mom a virginwe got evicted had to leave the burbs, back in the ghetto

And just maybe i will go easy on you little ( g ), cause your raps are ( o ), made my comp blow

With this rap shit, you know i do the fucking most

B-b-back to the #future making bread out of #toast,

And losin all his money

I don't need no props b/

"becky o m f g this is so unreal

Won't heat or burn me, i'm the coolest nigga here

But now i got a problem with that little white rock

My j-o-b to roast or fry this age old beef till the mic is h-o-t,

Nah you flow whacker than lil' b

This is like riding through the city