This is a song about "Shabba ba"

This is the part where we run hip hop

The police constantly bugging you non-stop

Playin' cee-lo, rolling dice, and talkin' on their mobile phones,

Wouldn't it be nice if the banks didn't fuck up the loans

I guess i can't figure

You ain't no killer

Sixteen years old with a old thang

Fire in the hand, supplier of the man

"sorry bitch, i have to leave you", "please don't daddy",

We go skate, rape sluts and eat donuts from randy

Of impactful things one can ask for

But black kids come home to no father,

Still six figures i figure,

I thought i recognized her