This is a song about "Mackin on the bitches"

That's fake, how you rag on the "haters", fags, and bitches,

I’m just a young nigga caught up in this rap business

Or a uniformed man, i'm tryna uniform 10 million men

Enjoys some pot.i like to bomb blocks on the road way and pop bitches when

Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues

I'm up in the booth, pack a shrooms mackin' who back an nothing to lose

My ysl lenses, my infrared sixes

Flexin on these bitches

Blood on the floor, now all the bitches crying

And this will be the song that we sing

He should of never fucked around with a sick ass nigga like methey call my name out and niggas run

I'm killin' off bitches, the shit that i'm spittin's so vicious it hits like a head-on collision

Only concern was the home that was close to him

Kissed a few bitches on the lips, no insertion

It go microphone check, one, two, yola

Bitches mad, was eating on they sofa