This is a song about "Sales report"

Im cuttin the sales and makin the scenes,

We all dream one day we be kings and queens

The best journeyacres of land and swimming pools and all that

But forget the star’s report card dog, so what its shit,

Bring back record sales, i sail while i break records

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

Money and power come to us through direct sales,

When the relay starts i’m a runaway slave

With sales of fish scales from triple beams i gleam

And eat about four bowls of some frozen ice cream

Yeah they seen my report card but they've yet to hear my rapping ah...

You trying hard to maintain, then go headcause i ain't mad at cha

Never even seen an 'f' slashed on my report card.

Well in that case, brother, then love her hard

You never saw us. i'll bust your ass if you dare report us.

Lord, forgive me, as a kid, i used to look at niggas jealous