This is a song about "Your mamma"

And your mamma got her bubs out (no),

Shades: lv was a little dough

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

Of impactful things one can ask for

But unfortunately she was taken away from michael.... mamma..

She say this shit for college, i told her drop her a prada

The dead society of a poet

Roll your eyes & talk your shit.

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

You after me, huh? i'm after cash

Out in the district they selling water and buying pistols

I'm fittin' shit, your hatin' it, your littleness, your genitals.

I live my life in tha fast lane

Blood stain, your slain, your brain

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.