This is a song about "Snow cone"

Or was it a snow cone? who knows...

Wayne told me that and that's just how it goes

Bitches and hoes, yo, get smothered underneath the snow,

And my bitch is the type of bitch that's all about that dough

Carefully packaged with snow

Get you high, keep it on the low

But that's a lie, so give this thug a tryi'd rather be ya nigga

Imma call her and have that bitch lick the tip of my ice cream cone like a

Poppa took the television, but left the radio

I only let her in 'cause she agreed to make it snow

Cause they gon want a return rain sleet hail snow

Heartbroken obviously, there's not tomorrow

His daughter pops up, it's him n her playing in the snow

Used to have this white bitch, she looked like madonna though

So much snow got me feelin' snowden

Mami... she open, she open