This is a song about "Petty bitch"

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

Heavy diction, lined in your ready petty kitchen

Brows grow sweaty but every petty

And now me, you can call me mr. friendly

Lying to yourself, all over an image

Rack, rack, city bitch, city bitch

And you all will respect that

Yeah bitch, yeah bitch, finna shit,

Man but this ain't no sign language

Fuckin myopic bitch

Petty mortals still don't realize where i come from

I put on for my city i should ball with vick and them

That petty dream is defined by a small man i know,

Never pledge allegiance, god given flow

Yeah bitch, yeah bitch, finna shit,

Uh, yea yea, turn me up a lil bit