This is a song about "Mobile home"

Like tapping in the mobile phones, in my chromosomes,

Fly nigga couldn't tell me nothing different homes

I'm definitely in a class of my own

And millions of homeless people back home

Simple bar spitting then going home

Yup, hit e.t up on the cell phone

She goes on in, walks into his home,

The j gets smaller, i'm loving my zone

Asshole flowers, going home

Girlfriends, groupies, then i'm all alone

You left your nigga on his own

Nobody is going home

U never being home,

Put my number in your phone

Your just a mobile pile of shit like a porta potty,ill destroy your hobby

I dont gotta join illuminati just to get a new bugatti