This is a song about "Ricky smith"

You know i got that soul like i'm bessie smith.

Quick to socializing with the baddest bitches

Fifty grand in my pants like ivy smith

Flyer them the rest i told you i'm ish

Ill teach smith and wesson a lesson like freshmen

Enough to paint a picture, my true profession

Everybody seems to misread every sentence

Don't need no smith & wesson, got my fists for weapons

Sit the fuck down all you old niggas stand me, faggot

But here i am, ricky bobby, shake and bake it

Another ratchet got dumped, in the trashcan i ain't done

We dont die, starin down the barrel of a smith & wesson

I tacked, now my eyes bare they aren't john smith blank stares,

She glammed up behind that eyeliner i know there's tears