This is a song about "Clothes"

We don't do laundry we just buy more clothes,

Other words, fill ‘em up wit’ holes

Ho, ho, goes, père noël in his little mufuckin fat ass clothes clothes, so so

My other capo in this big-ass.. conglomerate called death row

Went down the aisles, snatchin all the clothes

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

You rain-bows, so you just skittles in plain clothes

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

Heat for foes, shoppin sprees with my fleet for clothes

Alot of episodesand as the glock loads

Like clothes, herself swallows my census

All we need is convienient love