This is a song about "Raw sex"

Battle y'all raw metaphors slicing law

New grove, still bitches don't know this a flaw

Quit dreamin, we aint gonna have sex

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

Convertibles with turbo jets

We fight then we have make up sex

And in love with her, lets have sex

11.1.11 is when it all makes sense

Monday night wrestling, i’m so fucking raw

They claim it as their own, africa

Looking for dangerously hot nigga's and safe sex

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

Call me malcolm sex or tyson

But that’s just life, where i’m from

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Just trying to decipher between violence and sex