This is a song about "Intelligence"

These faggots lacking intelligence, and they overzealous,

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus

Unmatched to my intelligence

Ya ain't killers ya’ll got hundred yard dash guns

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

Intelligence in him you would swear einstein spitting

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

With speech impediments and i bet he'll still wreak intelligence

My intelligence makes this boring, it's terribly dull

But don't expect a ring if you committed to the hustle

People laugh at the intelligence, seem to be mean

To get ourselves up out that dream, no i’s in team

The death of intelligence, replaced by radio and audio waves

I would always keep a strong pace with a long face thinking of all the song names