This is a song about "Your mon"

Get ya' cake right, every chicken wanna slice

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

When it came to grams it was 90 i fried

I'll be your companion ,your friend and your guide

Fuck your bars, fuck your demons,

She likes the way it hits her lips

Fuck your prison, fuck your life

... club, we'll be actin' real nice

Where's your wealth? where's your fame?

Can't control the box, you are no mills lane

I'm taking women to heaven and then i take em home

"holy shit wow look at them gigantic racks my mon!"

But i be like for real, just pick up that phone

Growin out my dreads, i'm bob marley mon