This is a song about "Good moms"

I hope my moms finally proud for me to be her son,

Fresh-ass nigga, no wonder why them hoes be open

Bail hard but balling 50 on them pretty shoes

Karma grasped and the moms collapsed from the news

And moms, she raised me well...

You fine as hell

You can all get hit and we ain't lenient to women

We crack jokes about life, our moms, and brother's chicken,

Fake the laughs cause he knew his moms would break his ass

I will fucking beat your ass, box logos through the glass

Fuckin' up my gold pots

Still living home with ya moms/

Here i go again, falling in love

My moms turn-for-the-worst are turntables/

They got me goin mad, i'm knockin busters on they backs

We're filled with low-income toothless moms, nascar dads,