This is a song about "Sorry mama"

Ain't even tryna hold back

Yo mama carries a 6 pack

But lil' mama so dope

Used to find dope in his coat

Don't tell me you sorry

I stay lonely and cocky

I needed some change, mama needed a raise

Cause all you got now is too much room space, shoe space

Lucky seven probably poppa

Donned in the finest gowns i see my mama,

I thought mama taught ya,

I ain't mad at cha

Cocky as fuck but i'm unloved by my own mama,

I ain't gotta tell you they know about me, huh

We're lookin out for your babies mama

They gotta like a nigga, call me obama