This is a song about "Whinny the poo"

There's nothing man made than can make it just you

It's like who gave you the choice to treat some of us like poo

And they label me king... you can come and take it back

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

Too many of you whinny kids coming off as assholes,

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Might be leaving with me before the night is through

It's like who gave you the choice to treat some of us like poo

And i got a little big, keep it low key

Your poo, i mean pooh without the honey,

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Huh, a metaphor of course

Dont fuck wit the mack daddy or youll wind up shot, dead, and covered in poo!

It feels good putting money in your mailboxi love paying rent when the rent's due