This is a song about "Running thru the six with my woes"

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip.

Of my dick, head, melon off and let it rip

Cuz all i do is pull up in the drive thru

Higher than a vanilla sky, float by you

And for this moment no i won't ditch you

But they dont even know what the hell i been thru

I got her head on my cock, doing the six nine

Getting head counting bread, at the same down time

'cuz they don’t smile or smell like you

Running with no fuckin shoe

Big red creature with a six pack of the apocalypse

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

You didn't see me here if someone ask you

Me an my boys we the triple six crew