This is a song about "Popeye s"

So don't be acting shyi run my fingers through your hairthen i lay you on the bed

That’s why the paparazzi made that nigga hit his fucking head that’s what that fool get

Remember when i used to call you on your phone line

Bonded with the children of zion, my mind is s-s-s-so divine.

I guzzle up at the bar

Bad, just like an 80's car

My fitness is popeye ripping up a can of spinach

Play a song, invade a thong, my dick is havin' guts for lunch

Till you scream " what s my what s my name whats name!!!!

But i'm a hustler, in my heart, trapped is the game

It´s the battle of life

You make a nigga sing songs nice

You know they bangin' in the car harder than 808's,

But i can't keep you baby girl i'mma confess