This is a song about "Gettin bitches"

And we'd be gettin higher

And that i spent the night with her

And we gettin' money, over here,

Your niggas don’t ask how the top feel

Racks on racks, i don’t know how to act

You dried instead of gettin damp,

I start to think it's all planned

A baby basket hound gettin lashed,

Gettin buried in a white gown

Cause everytime yall come around

Your chick said i'm hot

Gettin caught by the cop

See i give my heart to an unforgiven genre where passion is frowned upon

I don't have pussy on my lap, or bitches in the livin' room gettin' it on.