This is a song about "On the phone"

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

You gotta learn how to walk on your own

I don't even talk to them on the phone again

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

I woulda done anything for my own

Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,

Callin' her up on the phone, quarter-dime telly nigga,

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

All the shit that his dealing on his own, if only he had a friend to phone

Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home

You better get her, i'm totally into my zone

The bitch is back at her house sitting by the phone

Don’t let it drift away like a feather and i’m home, home, home

All the shit that his dealing on his own, if only he had a friend to phone

Y'all be in love, like the howard crowd

On my phone miss havin you around