This is a song about "Ur hair line"

Nigga, i swear them lames ain’t know how to prepare

I'm sick enough to steal your cat, tear out all his hair,

From ur head n' ur mind,

Good help is hard to find

Your trying to rhyme from line to line,

Haha, i'm on the grind, niggas know the time

The way they hit her i just stop and stare

Hit man? shit man, i could look down the cross hair

Look what i got here, color black is my hair

No! it ain't fair, but we all bear and do our share

He'd rather come his hair.

Let me hear that beat, air

I'm hurtin ur feelins and burnin ur ass ur fragile like glass

So while i hold this bottle of ciroc with a hand full of ass

Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair

They're tryin to say that i don't care