This is a song about "Lapte de taur"

Motor city's gritty, clowns like you get bent and then de-stroyed

Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point

Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze

Fif-tee /nine times till ya de-ceased/ im sick son new form of disease/

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

So pon de replay, rihanna quit talking.

Catch me in the tour de france the way i cycle this flow

The hot-box vehicle like breathing out the window

Still a hobbit and like sauron's eye, you'll taste de foot

But you niggas too weak, but just give me 2 weeks and i'm good

Basketball is my favorite sport

Fakes try to put me on de-frost, they be glossed,

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips

Wish i get i could produced by scoop de-ville, no need to take pills

You cross dress like oscar de hoya, your life's a cock fest

Hold your applause until the ceremony end