This is a song about "Get bands"

Pirelli on my tires, call me 6 bands

You got me in a trance, please take off your pants

And my regime includes east coast

You'll get choked, so get stoked,

Two middle fingers for the police if a nigga get killed no rat no cheese

Bubbling bass and bullfrog brooks beside bushes that buzz with bands of bumble bees.

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Let me get lube so we get freaky

Everyday as i get older, people get colder,

Never will you survive if you ever rhyme for a poser

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

Get loud/ get loud/ let me hear you get louder

On the corner, a old bitch dropped fifty bands

I'm on the stage, you in the stands

Out here fucking bitches popping bands

We getting money, you can face the facts