This is a song about "Laura de renzy"

Should come with me to get your salad tossed

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

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

Even when the skies is grey, and my money was low

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

If they not talking no bread than we ain't listening

If u smoking with me you better de filling

To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money

De ja vouz, i could vision my killa crew, more hospitable, consciously

I'll terrorize the cul-de-sac, rappers, i ain't holding back,

Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag

It came to the point he couldn't look 'em in the face

Gone with out a trace when i deliver coup de grace

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

Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence