This is a song about "Sack of baby dicks"

That sits on peoples dicks

But i don’t mean top 40 hits

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

Buildin' tracks snappin', smack you with a sack of facts

Dicks whipped out of our kecs, watch the crowd retreat and freeze,

See, my bitch is imported - she came from overseas

Then i stabbed in their dicks

Big stacks, no lego bricks

I'm on i-80 though with my baby

Baby girl got the best of me,

I've been confused, out of my mind lately

I had dreams, visions of doing things wichu baby,

'cus the space of gaming's expanding baby

No cadillac, no perms, you can't see

Everybody coming home deserve a white benz

Hop over, run backwards, with a knap sack of green supreme bats