This is a song about "Tyrell ma love"

But that doesn't mean to stress ma

The science and the art, africa

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box

I love and hate this world, this goes out to ma pops

See me stepping through with ma limp and ma cane

Well, brenda's barely got a brain

Cause dis iz ma turf, ma base

But i'm not in the first place

Brah lynching cuz you're fat like your ma.

Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah

Ride presidential got me feeling like obama

And make sure you remember this, ma i love you.. mamma..

Cause i ‘ma smack your trash

And when it come to the cash

U smell like ma armpit,while uve been on ma cock pit,ma bars hit ma shit like jolie n brad pitt,

Nigga fuck that gin & juice, i'm fuckin with hennessyjust pour me a glass of that dark shit