This is a song about "I pooed my pants"

Your dad's purple heart now hangs over his ashes

Fifty grand in my pants like ivy smith

Got her the bently coup, she call that old news

Can't step in my pants, can't walk in my shoes

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

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

I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands

If u keep takin dollars out they pants

Cut the commercial, he be texting all the side bitches

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

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

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

While i'm tryin' to act like i'm not 'bout to crap my own pants

And i'mma throw this money while you do it with no hands