This is a song about "Yours boobs"

And your brain you better be using yours,

Epic, they used to feed me detours

I'ma part of yours i'ma tale of yours

I flash smiles at the mean looks

The concept is so absurd

Leaves yours sitting on the curb

And we was poor, but our life chances weren't better than yours,

And her little baby daughter really love them harry potter books

Runnin a liberation, neutralization comes to mind when my rhymes meet yours,

But all that comes out is my eccentric manners; it screws up all my looks

This shit would leave rosetta stoned

Are so good while yours are mold