This is a song about "Little girla"

Little gay-lookin boy

Now i'm trapped in a life that you managed to destroy,

Destined to win, get respect where i live

You are a little tuna fish

Little man's disease got you feeling like you're little mac,

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

And anybody who plays sports, you know you got politics

Now im looking a little kids thinking what about the little kids

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Why are the little kids having little kids

Everytime i think of you, even a little

I got my finger on the mothafuckin' pistol

As i light one for ill will

Ever since when i was little

And cooperate you pretty little flowers

I live the street life, ya heard? guns, money and birds