This is a song about "Your moms fat"

In your ears as i kiss ya, on every curveslow down baby don't rush, i like it slow

I got the sickest flow, i got your moms seven digits for 1 dollar not a penny mo,

Call your moms, tell her to plan yer burial

See these lights got me on another level

So i can see your fat ass tryna run

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

Everyone who left me for nothing tell em to call back

Yeah you think you're all that cuz your snap back and your fat stack/

And i'm so fly i make some homebodies ?? leave the luggage

Why haven't you fled, run! your fat #buns gonna be part of my #mac's lunch

Not too many options when you coming from the projects

Napalm at your chest- sonnin' cats, to date the moms with the chests

And that's action your wack rap pad'll have a fat chance catchin' on that ballot

Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that

Still living home with ya moms/

Bitch got all them booty shots