This is a song about "Her waist"

Fuck what y’all talkin’ about

Dick her down kick her out

Synthesizer, i'm the mothafucking master

Drop her, pick her up and tomahawk her/

I'm using my tooth bait to get that bitches teeth paste

We're like facial hair, i've got a full beard to my waist

You'd have three chins n' a more than a portly waist

She swallowing killa cause she love the taste

So i eye a thick pretty waist

And i feared that my fans say i failed

Every problem you ever had with another man i gotta face

My waist with an abused hate with an amused state i should have refused grace

Cinderblocks tied up around your waist nearest bridge three miles away

Keep coming up with funky ass stuff like every single day

Cause everybody else did it i had to save face

Gun to my waist heart beating like im in a mutha fuckin chase