This is a song about "Your mijit"

My all gold rolly or the

Leave your running to your mamma,

Can't wear grs, i'm pitching cocaine

Blood stain, your slain, your brain

Roll your eyes & talk your shit.

Uh, yea yea, turn me up a lil bit

Ill cut your thtroat, chop your head and pluck out your eyes,

That's where i hound your wife, she see the 4 pounds of ice

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

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Fuck your prison, fuck your life

Niggas wanna know why i'm so nice

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

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

Separating your body from your face then eating your name,

Po-po wanna pick his brain, ho's wanna give him brain