This is a song about "Loving your kids"

I say okay, i stand up right away, because i do not break a rule

I am a lyrical criminal hunting your kids outside of middle school

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

Isn't cool at your home or your school.its the innocent kids that go home and cry

Folarin said we 6 million and running

With yo momma’s dutch oven that she’s loving.

Pain, he's ready for whatever

Loving you is my pleasure

Kinda pop tart, when i bite into them red

Or as your loyal and loving pet

I brittle your ribs, you the type of guy that fiddles with kids

Ya weed quiet, you broke, y’all eaten lean pockets

And, yup, i gave lyrics a reason to want to live

Stuck in a vice, hide your kids and hide your wife