This is a song about "Killer babies"

Than diggin' in your couch, looking for your car keys

Your rhymes are developed as aborted babies

We're lookin out for your babies mama

I try to tell them i'm one of the

Figures i'm the real figure, the god killer,

I said you look like my ex-girlfriend, sister

You wasn't fin' to dress all crazy no more and

Home to asthmatic babies in her tenement

... club, we'll be actin' real nice

When she sees me she might have babies

I keep the competition crying just like they babies,

We still visualize places, that we can roll in peace

And i don’t know why you sucker niggas can’t see

I fuck ladies they all want my babies so they pay me

Because i'll eat yo babies

I'm why baby mommas leave