This is a song about "My butt ain t flat"

I slapped the fuck out that butt sparks in my hand

For 5 grand, with intentions to expand

High off life? my nigga not even

Soaked smelly t-shirt, let my heart do a spin.

You let him a sleaze you, but money tend to do that

And i'm not about to let my lyrics become flat

Hop up in my t bird and just ride slow

And you make the flowers sing say turn green yellow

Getting butt hurt by my rhymes, face red looking flustered.

Then i redecorated, that mean my tables turned

Guess you could call me by my name b double o t.

Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she

Money in a bag, stones be yellow as a cat

My coffee, put it on a flat table mat,

And it was nothing to you but hands on my butt

Classless niggas ask me if they give a fuck