This is a song about "Nose hair trimmers"

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

You stole from me from under my nose

Booger bear, i'll have you up in hooker gear, i swear

Fuck barack’s change, we’d rather talk milian’s hair

Tryna stay clear of my foes

Though music keeps to alter nose,

So keep dreaming and whipping ya hair,

I run a 4.4, so they won't catch me there

You like my lines like a bloody nose

We love for a while then a light goes

Best believe i'm leaving with more of those

I got flows, for rap shows, buddha smoke through my nose,

With rain pouring down her already wet hair

When the depth chart came, there was no me there