This is a song about "Plucking dingleberries out of your asshole"

In that aston martin on these niggas, game time

Get out of my face, you have your own space stay out of mine

It's too late, you ran ran out of your last supply

Revelations say you either fry or fly

Hold my tears i tried my best

When you scream out of your chest,

I don't trust no one

From hell your out of prison

Son, you think your good, get it out of your head,

By anotha lil' boy and this is what he said

See baby lately seems my life been hell and heaven knows

And making a warm snake crawl down your asshole. bitch, make it close.

But i’ma wait it out i’m bout to see that drought

Punched the shit out of your consciousness, your light's out

For making an asshole

Let's put it on cruise control