This is a song about "Crop tops"

The pain don't stop, but my reign don't stop

For some nice hookers, the cream of the crop

I'm cream of the crop but the ladies just don't realise it,

I said boss and i meant that; advance, you spent that

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Flow so sick thought he wrote the rap for him

You're a divorced slut and you can't suck dick

I see the world through different views, my crop pick,

We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots

We clouds from a spliff, touting and spouting quips off the bare tops

And he aint even cum, she just started licking tops

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

Im sayin one night my love is like that