This is a song about "Solids liquids and gases shape and volume"

She keep her eyes open and her fucking mouth closed

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

And if she have it, she gon' change her blackberry status

You're passed to the back of the class for your flatulent gases

And inhospitable,

Shout out them strippers who hustle

Where every recipient, property of the state

With the rest of my brain that gave once they made out the shape

Grab the scissors and saws and

I'm ring winnin, my jeans different

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was

Your flow is outta shape- it'll take more than bally's for fitness

So turn the volume loud, cause it's mayhem 'til the a.m

Finna get a swisher and fill it with at least a gram