This is a song about "You can t really fuck wit me"

// [who can really blame you?]

I call em up, they might fall through

I am in the firecracker mode dont fuck wit me alone you fuckin wit me alone

Sang sittin there kickin it with malcolm, 'til the day camelittle latasha sho' grown

Guess you could call me by my name b double o t.

With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly

You really thinking you can beat me easy but it's too hard

But there's a devil in the ghetto tryin to tear it apart

// [who can really blame you?]

Straight bad bitches i run, through

Well give me grab iti was born inside a love zonewith a glock-nine young marriage

So fuck ya, fuck my dick, you can fuckin ride fuckin me in this mathematical bitch!

Can you really be the best?

Plus 11-99 in his muthafuckin' chest

Don´t try to fuck with me, i am the one who goes for the kill,

Takin' shots of poon juice to the head for a cheap thrill