This is a song about "Fesh pince of blair"

Beaches of normandy.

That's why i'm makin' money

No cadillac, no perms, you can't see

Thoughts of immortality

Raybands...hide the face of,

She can make a pimp fall in love

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

I got bars u lil niggas sell ring

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Then i said i had enough

Of which im not exactly proud of,

A million home sellers couldn't find a realer state

Because of my constant fear of being betrayed

Out of this coviction of feelings

So here i am at the store for some chips