This is a song about "Hiot pockets"

His pockets were full and he was feeling kinda tight

I'm on my deen inshallah, i'mma get 'er right

Never tell em bend over i just make em’ take a bow

There's chronic seeds in my pockets, i should probably lay low

Churches searching for the pockets of the poor

Told my mama in '03 i ain’t going back to school

And sanctified, niggas got they pockets fat, overweight,

On these jealous ass coward cuz they evil and fake

My name's kingpin slim and i'mma son of a gun

Pockets loaded, infected, lookin swollen

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

Before this rapping, i was trappin', getting work cheap

What the fuck? that's your fucking brother? i ain't with that jerkin' shit

No narcotics in my pockets, only got 1 jackson in my wallet