This is a song about "Flid in my pants"

Pants up and shirt tucked in,the nerdy version

Shit and run back to the lab, need assistance from

Said i'm just tryna do this quick like make haste

Speakers loud; heavy base, pants sagged pass my waist

Fifty grand in my pants like ivy smith

That's flyer than a wrestler, you don't want to mess with

Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith

God damn it i'm cramming a hand cannon in my pants with,

So you she would hide cause she thought of me as a typical guy

And pants tight please be a dyke, cuz im a freakin freakazoid its like my

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

My hands grabbing everything in sight, and my pants sagging,

Need it in my hands, and i need it in my pants

We getting money, you can face the facts

At six i was making the girlies pants drop while i was playing in the motherfuckin' sand box

To be the man in this wicked land underhanded hits are plannedscams are plotted over grams and rocks