This is a song about "Out the door dads"

Counting out you aint amounting nowt so please fuck off now leave outta the door

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

You showed me to the door

Ima go until my arm's sore

The money gets closer when you seem to be grindin' more

Wear a rubber bust her out and then she's out the door!

Banging on the back door,

And you ain't gotta go to war

My visions that i record, the instruments i adore

Look out motherfucker while i break down the door

But most dads are the same, while most moms are unique. (x2)

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

The shit that i spit is more

Fucking hell, where's the door?

You know what fuck it, walked out the living room door

I've been so thorough, that's what i boast for