This is a song about "The brave little pickle"

You little niggas little league i'm the real thing

The poor little words ya jotting 'n writing.

I fabricated a slave, who assassinated the brave,

I’m stuntin’ the ferragamo, i’m running that medal pace

The saxophone player and the little kid flowin',

Stab him, put a arch on it, pour unleaded gas on him

Living my life like i'm living right

Little knew the boy, that the guide lied

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Abandoned throughout the land a million little kids/

They'll have to rename this one

All the innocent little children

With the pretty little lady

We might be back in this baby

I say that the pool is closed

Hey little weakling im brave and bold