This is a song about "Cargo shorts"

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

And we don't fucking make horrorcore, you fucking idiots

She call me all the time, i ain't no regular joe

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

All you need is clean shorts and some nikes?

Dc's here, this is where crack lives

Takin' breaks will leave you broken

Your shorts (errahh) yo check it son

The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox

Dude with a mullet bussin shorts wearing flip flops

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

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

You fall low on cargo until you come to a stop

I can only imagine, uncle bob

I be so ivan drago this beat gone be apollo

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