This is a song about "My daughters"

My own unknown is my enemy,

Look it something they can't ever see

Grab my knife and my gun

Top ranked, number one my son

At dinner with hov hoping that he pass the baton

As your daughters kiss the filthy ground i stand and walk upon

Sons and daughters, thanks for bein

For thinking you clean

Complexion from heaven don't be bleaching your shit

Ain't got started but your daughters wish it

Thinkin' why it's not south beach everyday

Its obvious i'm hot, your daughters in my ash tray

Hard as mortars, guard the borders, hide the farmer daughters,

And scott larock the super ho back in latin quarters

The nerve of this prick, he said fuck it you can have her

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure