This is a song about "The brave little pickle"

I fabricated a slave, who assassinated the brave,

I can't wait til she find out that that's really not the case

Yeah hail mary full of grace

Soulja boy i'm so damn brave

Now ur stuck in a pickle and this aint no dill

Don’t wanna have me then somebody will

Home of the brave is where i'm at...

And you all will respect that

Bury your thoughts, take his head fuck him have at him

The saxophone player and the little kid flowin',

Stepping out fly shit, straight purple cloud shit

Little elliot rhymes for the hell of it

Where the lips of your teen daughter sits, bitch

So you can thank the little unfair snitch,

Cold, my style making my nose run

All the innocent little children