This is a song about "Prodigal son"

Comedian, try again, son

On the bible you can run

// [but the kid is not my son]

So next time i come, i'll bring you one

Hard to move on when you always regret one

Stray away bullet streaks off the lips son

Boss broke, spouse choke, blouse open

But it's real shit comparing to yours, son.

If you're dealin' with hardware i feel bad for you, son

It's never late, we celebrate soon as your papers done

Grab a nigga and take me to heaven

I don't want your fucking votes son

Ross and folarin, couple women

Okay not done quite yet, so sit back, son

Now let me talk to you son,

Just to match the grind with precision