This is a song about "My child cleaning"

Doggy, i'm from the land of grind

Candy on my skull can call me a child

My dad ask him if i'm a brainwashed child

Pay my haters not too much mind

Only thing omitted is a baby or a wedding ring

But there's too much trash in this bitch, get to cleaning/

Aint no easy task cleaning up the wild west.

That i can only love you when you undressed

It's sad, but i ain't here, to talk about my fuckin' child hood,

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

And i'm still considered a child

Got an independent business mind

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

Child parents see my music and say "thats one album you will not be buying"

If your head right, i’ll be there every night

Dawn rising, cleaning up the camp site,