This is a song about "Fancy shit"

Then the gun shot, but i wasn't hit

There's rules to this shit

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

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Ya whole squad like "ooh shit!"

I know what you do with that

Nothin fancy about no bounty baby im frantic

I just open up easier when i talk through a mic

Yeah bitch, yeah bitch, finna shit,

No car key and i mean that

Think they tight, with their fancy clothes and fighting words

Crystal glasseswe mash on them jealous bastards

Florida, we runnin' this rap shit

I know the world been waiting for that

Wondering shit, questioning shit

The dead society of a poet