This is a song about "Flip of my wrist"

I wear peace on my wrist, but i'm not sure it exists

Fuck the comradery with b rate artists

But it was written in cursive for this king to exist

If i said that all of that was faker than a clean wrist,

And with the flip of a card you erase your debts;

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Try to hold my pencil and it'll make your wrist blow,

Shout outs to my philly hoes, told her drop that eagle low

Black fours red drop head doors

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

Yeah, you got me feeling like the greatest

All these diamonds dancing on my wrist

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

Rolex on my wrist cost me 12 chickens

I got lights on my wrist that’ll flash like cop

We charging you niggas up you like it or not