This is a song about "Your mo"

But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow

Uh oh we gotta go to another party so can party some mo

With a rosa parks state of mind, i don't give a fuck

Mo money mo problems when i get it i'm a pile it up

I see'em grillin, i ate it though

I'm stacking dough, ain't gotta sell crack no mo

Get rough with me, that night flow

Any many mini mo

Because it looks like your moving slow mo

It sucks that i didn't get the chance to say hello

Go ahead, talk mo shit bout how you don't feel me/

Your wrists don't glist, get the pots out baby