This is a song about "Slapping balls"

My rapping made you soil

My balls get lubed in oil

Out in the district they selling water and buying pistols

Slapping labels on foreheads and recording excuses in tables

So take my bat and these base balls

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

I was like a young simba couldn’t wait to be the king

Get out here with that befo i start slapping

Cut out your livers gizzards and balls

They say the money talks and bullshit walks

And meetin' mr. folarin could get you cardiac problems

Gat packing and fag slapping you will get slapped for once

Given us the fruits of liberation from your toil

Your balls get susan boyle

Your balls cry during bug life

I'm the author for gangsters, tough guys