This is a song about "My hitta"

My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/

It's ironic cause i always hear you talking about one

I rush to tend her, talked as i touch her

My demeanor, thirty years my senior

Got my head in my hands.

I'm popping rubber bands

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Nothing i'mma do is gon work

Pay a hitta to have a nigga disfigured,

Don't try to compare this to anything you ever heard

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

Drunk white girls the only way i'll get my dick sucked

Gator-toed mauri, three quarters, sky blue

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