I didn’t come to pick a fight

I know the culture here is to stay humble but shit
If we all go round bowed heads,
If never none of us go for the belt who wins
My mother says I’ve loved too many men
But I took and left something in every bed
Turns his head
The night might rise up investigate the grid
Bend the genre, I guess I’m on one
Both the constructs
Women, children let me tell I’ve been both
And Its a myth we all swim for the life boats

Lyrics from Fighting Fish by Dessa (should listen to the Hood Internet version for sure).