This is a song about "Ratchet"

Standing flat footed, i’m on my toes

You can't throw a punch like ratchet hoes

Lord forbid, for the good kid

Tipping acid, little ratchet

Dodgin ratchet hoes, like im dodgin these cones

Fly nigga couldn't tell me nothing different homes

He smoked, she drank, he stoned, she ratchet, he clank.

I understand i'm back by popular demand

They talk about the clubs and the benz and ratchet bitches,

Don't know why you even ask, ain't nobody hot as this

I don't care who exist, the exorcist moving bricks

Bats and hatchets at the ratchet rappers, automatics,

And all these rappers know just where i'm bout to go so catch me then

I spit on it, i'm ratchet, make a racket when i grab the pen,