This is a song about "How pretty am i"

But i aint got to be like "ay how sick am i?"

Die motherfuckin die, hope yo' ass fry, don't ask why

Take a look, to this bullet, now my finger slipped

I was pretty nervous and sort of embarrassed

I am not a terror is but i know how to write this horror

I'll be nothin' but a replica lookin' in the mirror

How am i blind yet i can spot exactly where to drop some bombs,

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

How the fuck am i supposed to bake them a cake then?

Hit me up in a couple days, we can try again

So i eye a thick pretty waist

And i feared that my fans say i failed

But she sure can get you high if the coke let her

I am going to have to learn how to keep my temper

Easy baby my thing tight, but that lotus flower just ain't right

Life isn't on my side, so tell me, how the fuck am i supposed to show pride.