This is a song about "Statistics"

According to statistics i'll fuck you up worse than jeffery dahmer with a sharp thermometer

Small time drinkin getting high with them armiesjust another knucklehead kid from the gutter

Every soul matter not just statistics

So i guess that's where i hide my things

I’m only dealin' with you, nothin' to do with your man

Statistics show....have a look at the histogram

I spit verses hard and mean statistics say mine are fighting machines,

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

Look up the statistics, and then reflect your mood

Bodyguard for what? dog, i'd rather shoot

Two whips, six tattoos, no kids

Blowing up all statistics

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

I'm taking math, statistics, and econometrics,