This is a song about "Son of satin"

I'm the bastard son of a

Your gonna be on top nigga

That you cant beat me, go ask your mum, to buy you a pair of these skills, son

While i'm layin in the coffinthe shit comes around so often

So let's have a toast, everything fine

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

Every woman that know us think uzoma my cousin

I see your love and radiance coming out of michael my son,

To block out satin from stopping my payments

Now momma told me be careful who you love

Son, you think your good, get it out of your head,

And don't perform after him or you might regret

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

All my niggas is winning, shout out to charlie sheen

Me and my microphone could be one

Two thousand one born a son of a gun