This is a song about "Le trou du cul biatch"

I’m tryna have them lips sync, milli vanilli shit

I got my du-rag on with my fitted sittin’ on it

Sweet, okay makes sense

Du press so i took breaths

I gotta cadillac rollin up to fon du lac feelin up my girl in back,

Just gettin you a job then i zip that broad tryina get in them walls like ghost dad

And a mother who will never le-eave me

Call me lazy, i ain't your baby

What the fans can't see that mm-mirror gon notice back

Cruisin around with four flats all the way to fon du lac,

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

Bitch i got that fucking swag, you don't know my fucking dad

I got my du-rag on with my fitted sittin’ on it

Following the king of diamonds, bitch you went ape shit

When im in the rap game if they say that, ill put them in my duff...le bag!

Nigga, don't be nervous nigga, say somethin'; trust me guys, he can rap