This is a song about "Produce"

Because before i rapped, all i did was stick out, and produce moans/

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

Man it’s the killer tracks

Produce me a couple fans

Why don't you just get a little taste baby

How to produce, with the right things in the right key

Because before i rapped, all i did was stick out, and produce moans/

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

Produce the type of rhyme to give you bumpy epidermis

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was

Have they all forgot who made this golf shit hot again

The flame's i produce, are burning up opposites in the game/

Dark side of town, baby mama blues

I make my own music, i even produce,

You can produce those masterpieces,im smashing masters and visa's while you acting diva

Until they get the munchies and say "i want a dime" crazy ass you can't eat a