This is a song about "My englishman"

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

Yeah, red bottoms, she ain't trying to dance

I'm sitting on this couch, wrist bloody

That is my wish, my fantasy.

This is my original, my validation

Apprehend a couple men, triple six is fuckin' sin

Since napster the sales been crashin' and

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint

I felt my body get heavy, from my neck to my waist.

You're gonna have to pardon my french, mr. englishman

And there's something you ain't seeing like i block your vision

Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------

I'm trend-setting, despite of an awful debut