This is a song about "Trap and bass"

I'll drop the bass flat on your face and have your beats spraying all over the place

Bow our heads, say our grace, make it out the hood was amazing grace

Two middle fingers for the police if a nigga get killed no rat no cheese

Bubbling bass and bullfrog brooks beside bushes that buzz with bands of bumble bees.

No coach bag if i go with that, snake skin tote that cobra clutch

And she's the type to booby trap my penis with her cleavage

And i'm laying bricks like a trap star,

The engine in back of my car

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was

And place words on the bass displaces, decapitates at the bases,

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

I'll bring a thunderous storm and trap you in it till you reach your limit