This is a song about "Homes"

I'll probably re-visit those old shotgun homes and trailer parks,

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

Who would forgive me even if i burnt down all their homes

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Police be barging into homes but that's rude

Flower bomb detonator iv tech in route

Appalachia and the row homes in the northeast coast,

I watched people i know pray and catch the holy ghost

I'm cool with all these broads in here but i do not date lucaya hoes

Figure this out, the king of the south, i'm poppin' bones from shotgun homes,

Fans catch us on animal planet, tracking hoes

And walk through shotgun homes filled with bullet holes,

Hi my name is bob and i work at my job

Out the homes lickety split *poof* like smoke

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

Fuck you little comfortable middle class dual-earner homes,