This is a song about "3rd street saints"

Let's go shopping, get your purse, them bitches be tricking first

Like true lovers caught lost in the summer, 3rd degree sunburned

But i'm not worried

Wen i walk down ya street

My rhymes so hot they make the saints sizzle

They just need convincing like malcolm little

In front of your mom your 1st, 2nd and 3rd born.

They swore that i was all fuckin' nuts like a gay porn

Wale, real nigga, where the totem, blowin' bomb haze

Y’all ain’t the praising saints with the perfect angel’s face,

Jesus christ, the king of these latter-day saints here

All i’m hearing is aids, i ain’t deaf in my ear

3rd eye following the light so i can see the shine

I’ll forever move any cat they admire mine

Including fox hill and 27th street

You can get ya cash on nigga if ya peep