This is a song about "Le may mays"

I've fucked up bad i think i may

I was gonna write you a poem today

What the feigns say, few roaches you need spray

Plant, grow, harvest from june to may

And a mother who will never le-eave me

Whaddup hoops, tell them it was for the money

And we may not be perfect

I’m watchin' espnbut when that show end

So, why don't you fucking wipe that stupid look on your face

(ball so hard) let’s get faded, le meurice for like 6 days

Niggas wanna know why i'm so nice

May i have your attention please?

May i have your attention please?

Got her going down, no teeth