This is a song about "Wrestling fans"

Ain wrestling it rugged like chippins on the ground

Never knew a hooker that could share me, i get around

But you don't have a chance

Chained as my slaves, my die hard fans

Everyday my fans confirm it

New rolls royce, royce, yeah i'm all that

Now i am one of your biggest fans

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

No don't do wrestling go won't to heckling

Produce me a couple fans

In that pretty red dress, let's dance

Man it’s the killer tracks

Step out into a million fans,

From everyting that i be seeing you losing tens of fans

Then i'mma throw this money while you do it with no hands