This is a song about "Custom"

I tell her it's my house, give her a tour

Why go enclose a dyke gangster, custom manure

Iced rims, custom ish, sounding like a fatter whip

It gives us peace then all in the town is quiet

He was just accostumed to the custom suits/

Homey used to be a player, now i coach fools

Afterwards she asks for a custom freestyle flowing

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing