This is a song about "Mark c"

Throw down a mile mark, ready, set, go,

Hit the club she drop it low

Even ice, i , c , e

The good kid from the ugly city

Watch out for my diacritical mark.

Leave all they clothes on, baby this ain't so hard

Could i make you my baby

Like, "peel, fruits, juice, vitamin c?"

But there's a devil in the ghetto tryin to tear it apart

Slinking through crowds of probable possibilities, sizing my mark

You bite my lip cause you like to leave your mark,

Like damn mama the reason i work hard

They gon keep on watching, give em something to see

Missed the mark so nearly, clearly and sincerely

Shit, that birkin bag make the old dude mad

Million, maybe, question mark that