This is a song about "Fitted suits"

Say there mr. mirror, put yourself up to yourself and then

Gangsters walkin' 'round in suits, i bring out the thug in them,

I bet they thought they'd never see a big gone good

Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated

Cooking in a laboratory, hoping i can tell a story

That creased up white tee...fresh fitted raider hat...always stay strapped test me

Cause it’ll part the red c on your clubs fitted

Give it to these broads,imake em soar back and all that

I got my du-rag on with my fitted sittin’ on it

Then i'm bustin' like an uzi when i'm thru with that shit