This is a song about "Hair lining"

Chasing after a dream lining up the tackle

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Frustrated and pissed off and pulling your hair

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair

You wanna see my math notebook, you see lining bar plans

They say hip-hop's dead, i believe it's just the fans

Momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair

Nigga, i swear them lames ain’t know how to prepare

They be on that water here, put a couple in the air

With his funny ass laugh and his fuckin shitty ass hair,

I owe you nothin so get so get out of my hair

Will walking on my heart, wish you was still there

After your hoes leave the jets' hangout

Toy graffers i'm lining out

Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair

I mean me is there, but it's like three there