This is a song about "Henry s four"

No, no, we are not those

I show up with four hoes

And wale been tellin' other rappers take a deep breath

And i'm participatin' in this crazed game of the 2000's,

So tell me why are we at war

Or keep small it around four

Please correct me, stretch marks

Four more tarts playing harps

Bonded with the children of zion, my mind is s-s-s-so divine.

Aiyyo i argue with my mother, spring, summer, fall, winter time

Methamphetamine fuelled rage killed four today

Nigga, look at my bitch, you looking the wrong way

Four more tarts playing harps

You haters put up your guards

So don't be acting shyi run my fingers through your hairthen i lay you on the bed

That’s why the paparazzi made that nigga hit his fucking head that’s what that fool get