This is a song about "U don t spit fire"

You spit fire, smaller than bawty riders

See me, i’d rather cut let ya body give birth

I spit lyrical fire, through each empirical wire

Type of chick that only dress in something that’s designer

All you heard is aye-pext don t hit me no more/

Head game outta control, super heroes on the floor

Bad bitch mac lip she a actress have her in the coup suckin on the gear shift

Anyone disagrees is gettin speared /anyone don t agree is just weird/

Bitches pay for a photo,spit fire, komoto

This just ain't no song shit, do this for my city joe

Your raps don"t even rhyme!

Who's on my line

U tryin to act hard with these week lyrics u spit,

Now say fuck them other bitches them hoes ain't shit