This is a song about "Microphone"

If i don’t make it, then somebody tell my son screen

I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream

We buy guns and more guns, to give to the young

A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon

Through the microphone, max alone, hold the throne, slam ya,

But all she ever want me to do is unhook her bra

And the money that my momma spent on rent and clothes

He disses microphone cause when he grabs one, he chokes

The fiend of a microphone, i'm the microphone fiend

Ain't no nigga touching my style, it got a force field

Blackberry and t phone

Live on the microphone

She like, girl you wrong running away from home

Visual orgasms caused by spams in the microphone,

Drop the microphone, now step the fuck away from it and just go home

Though surrounded by an entourage, i feel like i'm alone