This is a song about "Rob thomas"

Going to meet rob, and tryin' to act cool

Odd future young enough to get your priest mouth drool

The man just laughs and says "there was no rob"

I get my cake; i love hip hop

Faces, sex on the white sand beaches of saint thomas, though this ain't

Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised

On here she met rob, he seemed like a good guy

As i take you through a ghetto nigga's lullaby

I know i'm not the only bastard in america

Rob a bank, i'd drive for my motherfuckin' nigga

Quick fast in and out we rob the servo cashier

Takin' shots of poon juice to the head for a cheap thrill

They say nothings ever free

Yo, big rob you ready?

Uh, you gotta get in line, hop

I go back to my friend rob.