This is a song about "Laps"

Got your girl on her laps with my cum all on her face smeared

Yo, i'm fucking goldilocks up in the forest

Mom's stressed from two dads, putting more crap on her laps

Double-m g up, we up, y'all just relax

Till the day i die i'm running laps around these wiretaps

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

When i cock the beam back, i'm aiming for supreme hats

Leading with the speed by like one or two laps

Life on a fast lane infinity laps

To all the frauds stop faking, relax

Hop over, run backwards, with a knap sack of green supreme hats

Around you ill run laps and swim trough your belly flaps

Running shit and i need more laps

Girl, you got me in a trance

They say hip-hop's dead, i believe it's just the fans

Life on a fast lane infinity laps