This is a song about "Your bod"

My records sell, yes sir

Your on fire.. your on fire

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

While i'm rubbing on that ass

Chromed-out mansion in paradise

Fuck your prison, fuck your life

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

Watch me blow like i exhale i excel in this rap shit

Your lyres are cheat so hold your pen open your book-let

Sethered your spine, your movement lines

When i get my hands on nines

Big stacks, no lego bricks

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.