This is a song about "Dumb orange shirts"

And, yup, i gave lyrics a reason to want to live

I played the dumb guy once i played the dumb guy twice

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

Basically these basic bitches crop shirts til they're not covering

Mic in my handi run like marion barberyou haters on the sidelines

They don't have the guts to spit the rhymes,tearing my shirts has got their lines,

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

I'll straight drop your ass, here comes "clockwork orange",

When he see the jugs he will wanna rush to get a quick touch

Like soldiers charging up the hills, and dropping agent orange,

Gettin' highwhite boys done wrecked their shittryin to check my ride

Crunching cheetos between my teeth turning em orange from white,

West coast niggas got more roots than a orange tree,

Must be something you want me to see

Lying to yourself, all over an image

The numbness of reality like an orange