This is a song about "Im so fancy"

And im going so fucking nuts

Stack up your funds like a million bucks

Think they tight, with their fancy clothes and fighting words

Ravishing, rick rude of rappin you bastards

I'm after you bringing traffic through

So im comin back at you

Listen im so lyrically gifted

Holla at ya boy young roy’s in the kill shit

Im sick of cuttin grass so im chuggin gas

See youse a nasty girl, wit yo fine ass

...an bitch im so a-head,

Kick back and know yo son set

But if you're not dying don't fucking bother to call me back, i'm sleep

I ain't got fancy clothes, cars, mansions, or j's on my feet,

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks