This is a song about "Your hoe ain t shit"

Apparentally it make you argue morethe more things you throw

Well, total honesty, between you, your boss and me, you horny hoe

Look inside my closet

So you can talk your shit

I’m blessed it, cross-sign baptism west shit

Your hoe i'd hit it, my mind stay conceited

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

Ain t happenin!!! you bitches faker then 8 mannequins

Turn up the heat, cause your word's will phase me as much as a hoe tweet/

How come he's not in counseling? fucka's loud while he's sound asleep

Tryna break my shit? then you fuck around and get billed hoe

Psycho, maestro, orchestrate the life with the right flow

Your mom blows, she's a hoe

It ain't nothing though

Holes all in ya t-shit, call that holy moly

Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free