This is a song about "My strippers"

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

A straight thug motherfucker who ain't scared to bust

We drink alcohol while them strippers show tush

So these bars not mine, nigga it's yours

My lounge is immense and my strippers independent

Of the baby not bein' digested by a fuckin' hungry punk

No smilescause ain't a thing funny

My own unknown is my enemy,

My cash effected, my brain insane,

Flyin’ through the city, all-black, bruce wayne

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

A lot of women is real, some bitches robin given

Grab my knife and my gun

Mami... she open, she open