This is a song about "I m fuckin god mode bitches bow down"

Helicopters on the set of my sales

And street poets bow down when intellect fails,

See i've been playin' hard, i keep down and pray to god,

Hair weave killer had on louie's in my mug shot

Sang sittin there kickin it with malcolm, 'til the day camelittle latasha sho' grown

I am in the firecracker mode dont fuck wit me alone you fuckin wit me alone

To satan im sensing danger, wouldnt bow to god i would never ask for a favor

Jealousy inside, make'em wish i diedoh my lord, tell me what i'm livin' for

Dreamy little bastard, i done ran outta luck now

Used to nun-chuck em, now i got to donatello bow

I got some down bitches i can call

Y'all the truth, got a connection with you all

So bow down to the miss.

She gon get the mils for this

Have no souls indeed

Then bow down and kiss my feet