This is a song about "Weave"

My 40 dick longer than a bitch weave

Like being garbage some type of disease

An explosion on the mic as i weave a woven web of beauty, so seldom does it happen,

Call that bitch rondoi'm fresher than the prom hoteach her, we don't fly coachshe fuckin' but she act dumb

Crazed raised off hennesey, tell me will my enemies

Any future we can weave, and if we leave