This is a song about "Nine inch nails"

I pack a nine-inch winky, they attract totty

Folarin be ballin for all yall to see

Rob you on the street with the nine

Slow whine, my gyal, slow whine

She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits

From golden rings to them 17 inch rims

Lookin like a walmart greater with a 3 inch peter.

Whether watching for the feds or avoiding the grim reaper

Would look at us all the time

My heat concealed and its that black nine

Sick enough to hawk vomit, on every inch of carpet

I ain't your regular rapper who just be talking shit

You spiteful little bitch taking 12 inch dicks

So here i am at the store for some chips