This is a song about "Moms spaghetti"

I remember waking to my moms

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

You can all get hit and we ain't lenient to women

We crack jokes about life, our moms, and brother's chicken,

I do mind when i hear they moms crying

Come downstairs with nothing but a shoe string

Call your moms, tell her to plan yer burial

Ok, chief-in on whatever on another level

It was hard for me and moms growing up

Fuck that shit, i don't give a fuck

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

Your face looks like an old bowl of spaghetti/

A washed up queer licking tampoons out your moms

See my team has hella cars, i got a couple knots

You fine as hell

And moms, she raised me well...