This is a song about "Miss ya all"

At least that's what they think, don't blink or ya might miss the reason you exist

Uh, every time i’m in my city, i be acting like my shit don’t stink

And imma makes sure all four of ya tires are flat,

I'm paramount, nigga, i am, and you can't be mad

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

I stroll into ya studio behavin all casually

Is that all you got for loving is ya family for fucking

Only thing omitted is a baby or a wedding ring

For tryin' to communicate through a song

I miss the blue eyes i stared into all day long,

Middle finger up ready to rip out all ya ribs

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

Cause youse a down ass bitch, and i ain't mad at cha

Its not a miss but a perfect hit and kissed at ya