This is a song about "Wet farts"

Ima lay it down and have myself a taste

But i've got all the farts, well contained

Cause i feed you well. every sneaker, hell

Sewer hell, skewered well... flow wet, screw a well

With rain pouring down her already wet hair

Where my soldiers at? put your pistols in the air

But i've got all the farts, well contained

She dealing with killa so you love her taste

Dive in originality? it's best you wet your clone feet,

Chrome lips on the forgi's damn near swallowing the street

Wet cement open to ideas that'll fly/

These haters hope i hurry up and die