This is a song about "Fesh pince of blair"

Raybands...hide the face of,

Trying to get back to this thing called love

Because of my constant fear of being betrayed

We gon' rep the city of folarin straight, that bait

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

I'd rather have me no job than no heart

These cops is bad boys, baby just like puff

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Cause some of you bitches funny

Beaches of normandy.

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Of being of always getting wired

My shirt, purple label my shirt

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Rich, 2pac and the click, smokin' blunts, loadin' clips