This is a song about "Mrs tell"

Scrilla fan, oh boy and

Tell you mommy, your rattled

I got the right to be cocky

Don't tell me you sorry

Day and night are my 'posites rare

Tell me tell me tell me how is this fair,

Tell him to stop being vulgar,

She should have invited her

With no problems to tell

Let me call that hotel

Might as well get it off yo’ chest

I could tell you your perfect

And now, i'll tell you how

I'd be dead now

Please, tell me i'm dreaming.

Bun b, i’m underground king