This is a song about "Juicy couture queen"

I just tried and tried to make you my queen

I get paper like i a mail box, seen

No fx, in these doper than sess sessions son

Cause mr.clean'll bust that ass and leave that juicy open.

But i wear mine on my head, supreme

I'm hatsheput, the king, the queen,

Ride him all around, when he hits the ground

That fat ass looks juicy and round

Silver skin packed to the rim dam that's juicy,

Once as a slave who imagined being free

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

Im the queen of new orleans