This is a song about "Its yours"

But that wasnt my business so it certainly aint yours.

Check me i be jumping out the coupe, swagger through the roof

Black woman you cold

Are so good while yours are mold

I dont give a fuck whether i offend yours

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

Oh, i was raised by the stop sign

If i was yours, and you were mine.

I flash smiles at the mean looks

That chris brown and rhianna line wasn't yours

Leaves yours sitting on the curb

That bitch was racist, got me fired

Its yours until the protocol

Yeah, i'mma let the chips fall

Runnin a liberation, neutralization comes to mind when my rhymes meet yours,

But all that comes out is my eccentric manners, it screws up all my looks