This is a song about "Her realness"

And i hugged her and told her id miss her,

Boy got dollars, pounds or whatever

Her lipstick smell, her pussy look pierced

Thomas, clay aiken no gay shit, ass naked

Never lookin for a handout

Dick her down kick her out

Little nigga so they picked on him, hassled him

He runs to her, to stop her screamin',

Drop her, pick her up and tomahawk her/

They say i'm too nice to be a rapper

I am much better

I used to trust, believed her