This is a song about "Black tee"

Whilst i glide with black crows,

Like a line full of hoes

Masked up, this ain't trick or treat, one wrong move they finna squeeze

Fif-tee /nine times till ya de-ceased/ im sick son new form of disease/

Rocking black and gold stocking caps

Switch swag on you little dick fags

Looking through her soul looking really black

I'm trying to make a way, she never call back

To their backs and attract the black on black

I’m that nigga in fact, paper tall as shaq

I know when you're coming babymy tongue got you going crazy

That creased up white tee...fresh fitted raider hat...always stay strapped test me

Where the black girls get their weaves back

While i freakin' spit black

Yea i’m on that ball shit, boy you with that soft shit

It's like my lawyer know black magic, black rabbit.