This is a song about "Mean mothers"

My side is all riders and your side dont buy tickets

Rural southern trailer parks, single mothers with kids,

I was born rough, i left scars on my mothers pussy

Lips, hips, hair drops down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

At the tender age of 12, and you feel that no one cares

I see colors of red, mothers n' brothers are plunging to death

I got that good stroke, come be my mona lisa

On my mothers dead corpse, though he had gonorrhea.

At the end of day we all have or had mothers

Know it hurts that she flirts with a nigga this is worse

With g's in my pocket

And i mean it (and i mean it)

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

Divided families and tore 'em up and saddened mothers,

The unconditional love that we share for our families and our mothers

Deep into her soul, slow, now he's in controlpop's doing worse, a victim of his deadly curse