This is a song about "Tricky whit it"

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

It gets tricky without tha cash this hour glass not long enough

She like dudes whit lotto money from flippin lotta birds

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

I probably would wear 'em but my dick don't fit

So go and ride it, roll it up and ignite it

You be on that stalker shit

Yes we bout it bout it/

Gotta learn from my mistakes, rhymes must become more tricky/

Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free

Bet i'm heavy with that

She says it, you do it

And put together a million march for some gangsta shit

Y'all could never admit it, forget it, spit it, i writ it,