This is a song about "Rim jobs"

And every day my mama drifts jobs like she's sleep-walking,

The world is waking up, you can hear the pigeons yawning

I think i caught it for the rim, i be my fuckin ways

Put expressions in their music and create the face

Im cleaning up these haters like my jobs to hold a mop

But now i got a problem with that little white rock

Money above the rim, but i don't fuck with timbs

My city's culture to the game now in existence

It's them who've lost love, and love for a lyricist

Puttin all those cali and new york jobs on my wishlist,

Fuckin' up my gold pots

You sell yourself for better jobs

Like they're giving me a rim job

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop

Different positions, but she still moaning the same

These jobs you work around the clock, they make you go insane,