This is a song about "Son of haidies"

If i ever hand you some weed, it's free, you don't owe me none

Shit, come down, its not that much of a suprise son!

I'm so fuckin' southern i could be the son of paula dean,

I got a dolla and a dream, real niggas on my team

Acting like he's the son of god, bitch fuck your whine

Art design, archin' mine, fresno to clarke i'm fine

Comedian, try again, son

You trying real hard to appeal to someone

Packing a gun to punk you whackest of bums with no answers for son

We are the hope of the culture, they supposed to listen

But you been looking for love in all the wrong places

Son of a bitch, i imagine what your father is

Son from the core of this earth hater a fan is torn

And then i'll lay you down and record soft porn