This is a song about "Sitting at the beach"

Dreamy little bastard, i done ran outta luck now

The footsteps on the beach are only his somehow.

A grain of sand on the beach, a droplet in the ocean.

And i be feeling like hova when y'all was sleeping on him

Whining and complaining about when you coming home

The bitch is back at her house sitting by the phone

A gateway to louder things like powdered speed soon outta reach

And it's like, finding a kit-kat in a sand dune, at the beach

Sang sittin there kickin it with malcolm, 'til the day camelittle latasha sho' grown

At the stars, he feels hopeless sitting here alone so he beside to start heading home,

Hitting the mary jane and fucking ms. stacy on the beach

So closely listen up for a more adorable speech

Daddy sitting staring at my mummy,

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

I'm crazy as a ouija board, at a vacated beach resort,

No crucifix chains, i’m ain’t sure if i’m forgiven, lord