This is a song about "Collar greens"

Like i went to sierra leone in a homecoming dress

Reachin' for my collar, so anxious from this evil mess

Got a button down shirt, pop a collar

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

I hit it first, call it greens

Ass shots in her seven jeans

If i could, i'd plant some greens over all their fucking riches

But i guess i'm just gonna make this fish stew because

Blue collar they'd call it, ain't ghetto, fuck what haters say,

Bad bitch and she gon fuck me every way, never stay

As you sit and pray, hoping the beatings'll go away

Blue collar they'd call it, ain't ghetto, fuck what haters say,

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

Gime a second, busy cookin greens in the kitchen,

The working class section, and my parents blue collar,

I'm haunted by the thoughts of being husband, or a father