This is a song about "Web designer"

So if i do call it's just a check

The web you created in your head

Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh

Wearin' up in a jacket and designer pelle pelle nigga,

Or your designer clothes littering the floor,

Pine-green foams, they may never see the store

He should of never fucked around with a sick ass nigga like methey call my name out and niggas run

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

Cause i ain't really lift weights, i didn't need them

You caught in the web of that woman

It's like we both forgot what we were fightin' for

Smokin' white widow like the web to a spider,

All my shit designer and i’m still a minor

Got a little kick, but it ain't no tire

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

That you allow me to work it 'til you know what your actual worth means