This is a song about "Six god"

Motherfuckers, every time i see the paper

Six pack, of beer is in my refrigerator.

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip.

Y’all niggas don’t worry me at least a bit

But we should be body to body

And to those six people who've let me

One through six that's all gears

They bringing me fish and chips

(six minutes, six minutes, slim shady, you're on)

Let's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom

Yeah he's six feet under

You wife ain't shit, we g'd her

600 benz, house six hundred grand

Plagiarized swag, may arrive last

Well, i have a gram cupcake mix

You’re not a size six