This is a song about "Singapore three or more"

Is it for the best or is it doing more harm?

At dinner with hov hoping that he pass the baton

You spit that end rhyme trash i'm spittin syllables two or three

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money

Eating competition like a carnivore three plates deep coming back for more

Loc’s on, chucks low, black beanie dogpatron top wash straight from the liquor store

Or more white cons than up in san quentin/

Bitch i got my swag card, natural protection

To something i don't deserve. words hurt more than sticks or stones.

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

More than someone can hold or even see.

Whaddup hoops, tell them it was for the money

Maybe i can help u a lil with a dollar three or two

I love my onesand now i put blood on yousnatch money from you

You listenin' to her is leaving you with empty nights

So read this over once, twice or even three times.