This is a song about "Cargo shorts"

Who holler back to days untold with cargo-holds of golden lighters.

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

Got hu women frostburg women

Your shorts (errahh) yo check it son

Shawty open your soul, pray that protools agree though

Then i left the hood, like fuck it don't need the cargo

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

Dude with a mullet bussin shorts wearing flip flops

I'm not an asshole i just don't give a fuck a lot

You fall low on cargo until you come to a stop

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Drugs hidden in my shorts, fill the street corners with kids

Niggas in jerusalem, waitin for signs

All you need is clean shorts and some nikes?

You see the furs and pendants, austin sigoto, drop though

My great brain, the freight train, loaded up with cargo