This is a song about "Jordans with no cuss words"

You can't cuss me, parr me

The watch cost me 2; your bitch, free

I'll write, type, with these words i bite,

My direction good, well-rounded type

It shows i know a bit

With words so mixed and twisted

Although weight gets you paper, i pray you're weighing your options

But still i'll probably be judged for not ownin' some jordans,

With bigger words then her

I'm a bad motherfucker

Words defined with refined elegance, stunning

Have that consistence drive long as your motor’s running

Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin

Jordans are a need, aint no shoe game recession

Meet me in the tele where the lobby at, i'm probably there

Anything to please us. comin up with words out of no where got some hair