This is a song about "Strap on"

Strap my victim down on a table, bashed him like the man was abel

Cause see way back, i thought to fuck with you was impossible

Strap the fuck in we finna take a ride on the wild side tell me please

My philosophy is rocks and weed, a partna lean, the glock will squeeze

But still i feel like i could strap on a cocked hand grenade,

High outer space no atlas got a lot of bait

I will fuck your mom with strap on,

Full of shit, like i ate that john

Head bangs, back n' forth / it's attached to the strap of an elastic chord

Yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this record

I'm fuckin witchu but i love them bitches you know i'm gettin more cut than nip tuck

Lets strap the president with an m4 drop him off in iraq and tell wm good luck

But still i feel like i could strap on a cocked hand grenade,

A million home sellers couldn't find a realer state

That nap wrap gap trap bitmap match flap strap slap crap spat

That i never had, but wrote it in my raps to make you mad