This is a song about "Ginger pubic hair"

With rain pouring down her already wet hair

A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there

Fuck barack’s change, we’d rather talk milian’s hair

My coach ain't care, so i ain't care

Turtle dicks comb my hair

Day and night are my 'posites rare

I'm sick enough to steal your cat, tear out all his hair,

Striving, working nine to five with no health care

Unless it's steve harvey's buff sister trying to jerk my dick

Have these niggas falling off like hairs of my pubic.

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Haters say, "hey great" then turn back to drag hair

Lame hair that i gotta oppose.

And these shape-shifting hoes

I'm just sellin' my thoughts there

So keep dreaming and whipping ya hair,