This is a song about "Were ya at"

And i can't even trip, cause i'm just laughin at cha

So were going to break it down and build it up for ya

I'm with your girlfriend eating chips

My flow coming at ya, giving you chills

Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah

I'm the king rapper, take a swing at ya,

The homies wanna kick it, but i'm just laughin at cha

Its not a miss but a perfect hit and kissed at ya

But all she ever want me to do is unhook her bra

I'm not gonna lie their were fine girls, i'm telling ya

Ya need ya pad 'n eraser to scratch that, ya probably good at that ay dj.

Fuck tha policewon't fly away, thug, till i dieyou wonder why i'm made this way

No sequel iron at ya temple

You all niggas ain't even on my level

At first i thought you were cool

Gotta lotta stuff, fool