This is a song about "Ribs"

You were just found with eight bullets in your left ribs

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Then i plough my girl, my dick deep in ribs

To see me and my chicks in dkny kicks

Breaking ribs, shitting top hits just in case you missed

So the fuckin' school suggested me a therapist

There's no answer for it, these rhetorical lyrics

I stack chips, crack ribs, and in fact, i stack mad mack clips

I brittle your ribs, you the type of guy that fiddles with kids

* ron isley harmonizes throughout but sings no real lyrics

Kick then get kicked in the ribs

Spray the fifth, gator kicks

Lightens the mood with ribs, never be able to take a bite of you

And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brainarguements with my boo is true

Umm made her ribs snap nigga,

A legend have to bow, africa