This is a song about "Son of haidies"

Two thousand one born a son of a gun

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

Got them thugs with me, yeah, we about that business

Son of a bitch, i imagine what your father is

Went to sleep at seven never woke up from the dream

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

Keep wifey in la perla and don't you ask her what that tori cost

Until y'all niggas are out of breath, you left every son appalled,

I'm the lost son of god in the new page of psalm

So sad you had to miss your mom' s prom

Well baby bot there ain't no question

To be throwing the hand’s son”

With a tear they try to tell me but i never listen

Topping obstacles, unstoppable, the prodigal son