This is a song about "Clothes and skills"

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

For all the rappers and skills

Think they tight, with their fancy clothes and fighting words

Ravishing, rick rude of rappin you bastards

When that money calls i holla back

Mad, stealing clothes cause you broke, and you know that

I sit and rap till my skills are perfected

So i'mma talk about a little bit of that

So should i call him a try hard for his style and clothes

In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes

My rhymes are crazy and my skills incontrovertible

I got my finger on the mothafuckin' pistol

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

Money's on my mind, break the bank, now the clothes and hoes,

They disregard me, i guess they all got egos

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,