This is a song about "My shoter"

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

My glocks steady,my walls up, my teams ready

Mommy all on me cause i'm touching her belly

That is my wish, my fantasy.

That's why i'm makin' money

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

Homie popped up with about twenty bags and

This is just my year, just my day, and just my time

I try not to obey them at anytime

She forget about her husband

My streaks my testament.

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

She a honest girl so i'mma slam her out

Thats how i live my life thats my motto thats my armor.

I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her