This is a song about "Lap dance"

Until your tits fall off into your lap

Track and field with the birds, i’m running em like track

Really i was the one trying to dance

Check my bank account, got racks on racks

It's them who've lost love, and love for a lyricist

Speaking your name with every lap finished

Pens dance across pages,

We don't ever make love

That makes threemy laywers getting cash up the ass

When i'd rest my head in your lap watching mash

Ya try to over lap life's circle, inhale some purple,

Ya winslower, than laura, though you niggas urkel

My hands dance to disrespect like happy feet

Umm, this lane is open if, if you need