This is a song about "Stop playing papi"

Playing with my heart, saying

Straight g thing, double m g thing

Still we be praying that the weather stop playing and cool the tropics

And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks

Playing christ to these enemies

I give bitches dick and leave

Lyrics like i'm playing scramble/

This bag is from seattle

Tire marks, tire marks

Four more tarts playing harps

Commence to poppin' motherfuckers copy it fatalefficiently i delete then flee

Papi you're a softy, fuck with me ima eat you like candy, taste like laffy taffy

Can barely walk the city streets

Playing back my lesser feats