This is a song about "Marquis de lafayette"

I ain't gotta tell you they know about me, huh

Concha de tu madre bitch don't touch my fuckin mota

If u smoking with me you better de filling

Polo purple like the dope i'm hitting

Gone with out a trace when i deliver coup de grace

My music is like confetti rain when you win a race

You just want jewelry and all them fuckin shopping sprees

Fif-tee /nine times till ya de-ceased/ im sick son new form of disease/

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

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

Give me the mic, my de-vice, that i utilise, write these lines, that'll be

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree