This is a song about "Independent woman"

Every man woman and child, dead, from a shot to the head,

Bet you thirty dollars you find her like cartman found kenny, dead

Not too many options when you coming from the projects

I hear her crying she's a woman of a strength

Like an independent store, something's wrong with my head

Hungry like the nigga who ain't got the taste of fame yet

And i be good til the fat woman sing a note

Behind the velvet rope, pop bottles, hella smoke

Wouldnt smack a woman but id smack a bitch

Hop off my dick and make a fucking sandwich

Watching my woman of twenty years wither away,

Life's based upon what i'mma do today

If a grown woman is comfortable with her sexuality,

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

Trigger being pulled, niggers in a ditch

I disrespect woman, i call a ho a bitch,