This is a song about "Ribs"

Middle finger up ready to rip out all ya ribs

By the water, au revoir to my audience

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

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

You were just found with eight bullets in your left ribs

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

Kick to the chest, your ribs go crack

Snapple fact: you rather wack

Straight to your back and ribs conditions hazardous

That scary love, never get married love

Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics

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

Yeah, one time for the

Umm made her ribs snap nigga,

Good rhythm, bad women and better lyrics

And grip whips to switch hits to each ribs