This is a song about "Hats"

Man we pullin' out like jack rabbits out of magic hats,

They say hip-hop's dead, i believe it's just the fans

At dinner with hov hoping that he pass the baton

So keep your hats on the rap's on so get your strap on

I wear green hats because i'm fortunately lucky

Triple white ferrari yeah thats the easter bunny

I'll pick up your bill then shoot you dead and the tangueros will tip their hats

Witness me strapped with macs, knew i wouldn't play thatall you old rappers trying to advance

You hear the words coming from my lips bastards

They smoke black and wear black hats, with red shirts,

When i cock the beam back, i'm aiming for supreme hats

Yeah ballgame, i swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans

I got more hats than the sky's got stars

And i'm still hurtin over pops

And tricks will pull stunts on you out their hats like jack rabbits,

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks