Not a recipe for success

I admit to paying attention to my son.

Sometimes that means pulling up the lyrics to the music (sic) that he listens to.

One of the "artists" that he listens to is Drego & Beno. Might as well be Draino & Vomit.

Excerpting from one of their works of art:

"This lil jawn texts me, says she home alone
I think this shit a booty call
I tucked the two-two digit in my Polo drawers
It's like everywhere I go a nigga get involved
I cock the chopper back, a nigga piss me off"

Translation: A Latina called me up. She wants sex. I expect trouble. I put small handgun in my underwear. I made sure it was cocked even though it is pointed at my junk.

I fucked her friend on the low, she ain't know at all

Translation: Self explanatory.  Right...she don't know. You bet. Keep telling yourself that.

Be careful how you hold it, baby girl it's loaded
You don't really know shit, huh
Put that shit in motion Baby girl you know this, huh

 Translation: Witty double entendre. See ya at the morgue.