This is a song about "Girls going out"

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips

I'm blowing out your dome because i'm going cold with vengeance

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

And understand, deprived cause lives or going out, some are coming in

Going out with different guys and i could tell

Cause i feed you well. every sneaker, hell

I'm going, ain't no cop out.

After your hoes leave the jets' hangout

You say the art's dying, nah brother buy an album, the plan

Cranking some wu-tang, if i'm going out its with a big bang

I do self evaluate, yeah, i know i've got some problems

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

Going out with the new niggah on her fucking block

You know who him, slim, before mims i been hot

Blowing bands in that strip club, count it up in your down time

I'm going out my fuckin mind, they think i spit a lucky rhyme/