This is a song about "I own you"

Why these broads hear my late call, start rushin' over runnin' lights

Im just laughing cos i see you deleting your own lines

And laugh in your face as i beat you with ya own cast

His wifey fuck with me and really he don't understand

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer

It's typical how traditionally i position a syllable,

I'm going to bury you in this box i made outta your own kitchen table

Cuz no matter what you do, i fucking own this thread,

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne

Lost soul, here i leave you, now i'm going on my own,

Cuz i got better things to do then rap with you, got my own path

So while i hold this bottle of ciroc with a hand full of ass

So is dr. j and moses malone

I could handle this on my own