This is a song about "Long island white trash"

Now i'm fuckin bitches on the island couch.

Now you know bout me, lets go to a lounge

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

That white trash traffic and gridlock, shit happened like a six blocks

It's jungle when the niggas in zoo

Robben island imprisoned you

Why probe our ass

Cause i ‘ma smack your trash

Shit nigga i ain't neva been on no island

Auction coke to the coppers, glocks in the locker and

I guess it's up to me to take out the trash

But money never lasts, in fact it's only last

Pure trash infused with such elegance,

I can taste the salt from my tears

Bring your pen and your weed stash

Makes me a piece of white trash,