This is a song about "Mrs moore hoe"

Fuckin' squirrel, bet his girl still buy the tape though

Body bags are piling up, time to grab myself a hoe,

Shouldnt have called our girl a hoe.

Dig, these niggas is fake joe

Shades: lv was a little dough

Which itty bitty whiny hoe

Driver drop me off at dulles im headed to some money

They still think im delusional, sick and mrs sheesh cant heal me

And i don't rely on no bitches

Secret missives to the mrs

Nigga had the fucking nerve to call me immature

Im ravishing like rick, ruder than rudy ray moore,

Shout outs to my philly hoes, told her drop that eagle low

And we type of niggas that'll smash and pass a hoe