This is a song about "50"

Now walk to it with your land mind

Leaving 50 ton ships fucken capsized

My best friend armani lost her arm at the border

You got a pic of 50 cent and your a wack talker

Your bitch just ain't full of you, she just might be a dyke

But i'm 50 kilometers lighter than a #bike

So, 50 years from now, check what i became!

But i'm a hustler, in my heart, trapped is the game

Greenist moncler shit, earth tones in the winter

And then send that bitch 50 yards like a kicker,

Forgive me lord, it feels like i commit a sin a day

50 shades of clay, tons of reasons why i’m mr. may.

I never use a fork i always spoon her

50, thousand volts you're gunna save for later.