This is a song about "Fancy"

Have you with professional killas, chasing hits

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her

But astronomer is just a fancy word for moon starer

And hell. human condition? what a fancy name to label on a prison,

You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done

You hear the words coming from my lips bastards

Think they tight, with their fancy clothes and fighting words

I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Nothin fancy about no bounty baby im frantic

And a hi-hat made of plastic, nigga's sound is elastic

Fancy type of draws drool on a mild pile

Give her that d i'm outta 8 mile

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

'cuz it's so deep in my blood, this the only shit that i fancy