This is a song about "Jabba the hut"

We're made for each other

In the heat of the summer,

The replacement of the word "mother"

I'll touch slap her, dap her, plus clap her

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Yeahpour out a little liquor for your homies nigga

No tats dey for my arm

The weed into the bong

I'm the nigga with the juice

Zero options to choose

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

I be staying at the roosevelt more than marilyn goes

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

And when i'm done with her, ain't no other male to compare

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

The good comes with the bad, the bad with the ugly