This is a song about "His dimples"

His conscience can take him to his grave

Driving my car to a foreign place

Ignore cus she mad again, then i hit her back again

As a child his only friends were his dog, his page and his pen

Cause he tried to educate and liberate all blacks

Right through his face, pastes his brains all on the packs

Using his music to steer it, sharing his views and his merits

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips

This is to my unborn child

Took his head n' beckoned his mind

I guess these major deals ain't all they seem

Phone in his hand, coffee in his spleen.

Who shot his best friend for calling the cops his

And really don't matter unless y'all coming with