This is a song about "Having a crap on the moon"

Every afternoon after school crank the tunes and wait for the moon

And take him to a place that i'm sure we all can blow up, boom

I'm from the number one place on the map

And malcolm sex is shitting on the crap

And if you got it you gettin wet, nigga bet on that

You are crap can't rap keep strap take a nap fake crap...

While on the moon guess i'm micheal

Yeah come holla at your uncle

The third one is mixed, white and black

They be on the pad, but they spittin' crap

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

I got that scrap of crap on the map to wrap and strap you in a trap

But i was wrong, baby girl sung another tune

Leaving you laying there like your gazin at the moon