This is a song about "Your stomach hangs over your belt"

But you make my stomach do flips and i love your wit

That's why i traded r. kelly my sister for a new hit

And you sick to your stomach

I know you're mad, but so what

He took it to pitchfork, he couldn't get a sentence

Your career will be over in two years

So, with that, we need us a plan, respect

Bitch you aint on ma level your below my belt

Like sally mae on college debt

Dead they chose money over your head"

Pull up yo pants, take off your belt cause you ain't shit, flush you down the

But that's a lie, so give this thug a tryi'd rather be ya nigga

Watching over til they come and kill your brother, rape your mother

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

Your sandwich over there

We both grown and i dont care