This is a song about "Terry the hoe"

We ain't looking for loving here, only cus it's summer here

You waking the dead, don't test me hoe my weapons is real

Let me say this shit in slow-mo, homo

Thats right mothafucka, another dead white hoe

Yo we roll in the hole,we roll with the hoe

I caught a felony lovin the way the guns blow

Knocking success in my chest hoe

In the club like fuck it, though

To rightly ride an overgrown hoe to the dome. consider me an enemy and

If this was a game, i would be considered a mothafuckin' legend

This summer gone be mine though

Now this is to the hoe…

Notice it every time i pick up the microphone and spit

I shit on the script while your hoe on my dick, but i never slip,

I dumped the hoe and fell asleep inside of a bugatti

I'm just ridin i done put a thousand miles on my body