This is a song about "Moms spaghetti"

Flow to my heart, hit the flo' when im dying

I do mind when i hear they moms crying

And now me, you can call me mr. friendly

Your face looks like an old bowl of spaghetti/

With more & more rap material, i got you and ya moms

I'm too explosive for your ears like i'm throwing bombs

Pop toasters and they live with they moms

I like bitches in air maxes without socks

No lies, your moms vagina is enticing,

Got a sweet sixteen and they deadlier than sin

Shooting down moms and wives

They say we living in troubled times

A washed up queer licking tampoons out your moms

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

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

These niggas think they coming home, they must have never seen spaghetti