This is a song about "Ur lame"

Balling, but it’s not a game

Your songs are so fuckin lame

I don't toot my own horn but i'm a cold train

Gangsters are pussies and thugs are lame

Retail snappers even is lame

I'm that extreme, so haters complain

If you hatin on me, you obviously a lame

But that was way before i made the dough and met the game

This is to my unborn child

From ur head n' ur mind,

It's a daydream i claim i'm toying the lame

Oh you a muslim now, no more dope game

I like my thoughts filled with lame

Well, brenda's barely got a brain

Not hungry for my poetry

Like a lame ass little bunny