This is a song about "My hitta"

See my pain through my eyes,

What we gotta do to survive

Swift-made switch blades made a big incision in him

You're my hero, my idol, my inspiration

Now you spell iti say young money bitch forever

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

Check my bank account, got racks on racks

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

My talent should take me places i've never been

This is my original, my validation

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

Inside my eyes, cameras replaced my rods and my cones

My nitty bag, my kitty boost

Man, that saying is so misused

Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb

Pay a hitta to have a nigga disfigured,