This is a song about "Kids"

Your kids head isn't tuned... correctly

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

And speak to suburban kids

They bringing me fish and chips

When you spill out hits

Stories we were told as kids

If your kids need anything,

Or the chick leaving

I walk around understanding the politics

Rural southern trailer parks, single mothers with kids,

Abandoned throughout the land a million little kids/

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips

Ya weed quiet, you broke, y’all eaten lean pockets

And giving peppermint candy to innocent kids

Look, need to call it quits

Im a don in this shit, yall kids