This is a song about "My daughters"

Ain't got started but your daughters wish it

I put some cash in ya pocket

These my rhymes and my story

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him

You're my hero, my idol, my inspiration

I can't wait til she find out that that's really not the case

After that, i'll come home to a smile on my little daughters face/

You know big-breast girls

I've slaughtered daughters

Tell me who's as rad as us and the answer was

My daughters will have brothers acting overprotective,

Baby you're the one

Grab my knife and my gun

And scott larock the super ho back in latin quarters

So i solemnly swear to always treat this roof, like my daughters