This is a song about "Spelling words"

Guess i'll just throw my words/

Feel like i’m movin' backwards

Shout out bobby on hundreds

Guess i'll just throw my words/

I'm always busy, like a retarted kid spelling mississippi,

Every nigga in this whip gotta motherfucking college degree

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

I don't care any more about spelling i care about ass kicking

Love my women with high heels and high standards

Wish i could put these feelings into words

That try to chase these skirts

That people can't find real words

The birds i knew flip birds

Who can speat out them words,