This is a song about "How bad frosty is"

And kids no matter how bad you get knocked down

It is breaking me down, no more friend around

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

A heart attack, son, cause a how bad that was."

Until the end of time

No rhyme is a bad rhyme

That's why all these bitches frosty.

On they twitter writing novels, see

I’m atl pimpin’ custom pivot edition

I stuck my keys in the frosty ignition

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

At first i didnt know how bad this shit would bother me

And it's nasty how bad you're about to get blasted

If you want it, pursue it!we can handle the shit