This is a song about "Trappin out the bamdo"

Scratching my back, let the words get out

Don't pay for that, double-mg nigga brag about

Out in the cotton gin

With a little bit of passion

When you let that nigga grab your naked ass

After take-out i'm takin the out the trash.

I rose out of the darkness

She can make a pimp fall in love

Black ghost, white driver, such an oreo, i'm thinking out loud

I went out to the corner all the homies hanging out

You say you trappin and you never even sold a drug,

Of the baby not bein' digested by a fuckin' hungry punk

See i give my heart to an unforgiven genre where passion is frowned upon

So forget lawrence,the guns,the fightin, and the trappin i rather move on