This is a song about "Pimps in the crib"

In my crib / butlers, women and nah no kids

I got many chicks, blue and black penny kicks

Throw her slightly to the right, so dyke i'm kinda wrong

How 'bout i talk about pimps and hoes when i go write a song,

Homey used to be a player, now i coach fools

On murder and the rising crime rates, pimps and prostitutes,

Run up in the crib tryna uncover shit

With a home girl, best friend, lover, all that

A lot of women from conversation could fall in love

Why the fxck i let you in my crib, im so delirious

So get up off that slave ship

My momma needed a new crib

Chillin at the crib alone so you know i'm blasting that music

While you mothafuckas waiting, i be off the slave ship