This is a song about "Six year old boys"

I could send my10 year old michael to your place to teach you how to rap.

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

Left a 12 year old me with his whole world shaken/

Get a bottle of ciroc and take a chopper to the party

She said it was my fault that he caressed my 9 year old body/

They said they remember me from last year, well that's the old me

Now hire about street schemes, and getting blood money

That naturally act like these raps is a mattress

A 99 year old man stuck in prison i come the ashes

This verse was a message to my sixteen year old self

The silver-lining couldn't find 'em up on any shelf

What kind of life is this for a fourteen year old

And copy what's hot until that goes cold

Size 9 fly kicks

(six minutes, six minutes)