This is a song about "My humps"

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

Secret society all we ask is trust

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

That bitch was racist, got me fired

My shirt, purple label my shirt

He in bootcamp, you on food stamps

Got my head in my hands.

No fx, in these doper than sess sessions son

Weres my opinion, whats my religion,

The watch cost me 2; your bitch, free

My own unknown is my enemy,

My home girl told me i got an issue

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