This is a song about "The fag aaron jacob dick ball sack tall small skinny fat big little end tip deep throat dill pickle fifty shades of grey"

Niggas talk a lot of shit, but that's after i'm gone

You bitch'll need a tampon by the end of this little song

You big ass motherfuckin' fag!

Where the black girls get their weaves back

The day before is better than the present

Its the small shit that gets you in the end

Fat bowels of tree deep, and its too loud to hear

I figured out that it don't matter for real

We ain't poor, ain't middle class, we're in the shade of grey,

Morty let me use the maybach back in may

Come and stay with me, oh, where i live? the mall

Deep ass wounds, sense of doom looms, trapped in the tomb, end it all

I rap from the deep of my hart, i am not fag nor whack

Make sure your fuckin' feelings end up up in a glad bag