This is a song about "Matthew my bes"

What them tippers don't see

That is my wish, my fantasy.

My wondrous success bombs my regrets

And everybody's having sex

My cash effected, my brain insane,

They'd rather see us locked in chains, please explain

Sorry mr. charlie won't chap dance

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure

Huh, big syke he be ready for whatever

My own unknown is my enemy,

Whaddup hoops, tell them it was for the money

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Boss in my hugo, floss like my tooth hurt

I dont love you im just confused

My nitty bag, my kitty boost