This is a song about "Pretty little liars"

They gotta point em out baby

With the pretty little lady

That's probably pretty difficult to comprehend

Left hand staggerin' on her muthafuckin' breast

And cooperate you pretty little flowers

I live the street life, ya heard? guns, money and birds

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

Lets be free like a pretty little butterfly

You was bigger than an artist

Skirt the edges liars built

But pretty soon they'll understand

Follow your heart you’ll make that fast

Myers, liars, try us, bar fires, slash ya car tires,

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

Getting tired of compulsive liars

Uptown roamers, and south side riders