This is a song about "Money and gucci flip flops"

You is just a groupie bitch and groupie bitch, no i am sick

Flip on yah tv and all you gonna get is static

Then dipping with the fucking pen to go sin again

We the moody, gucci, louis and pucci men

And fumble every new leaf that you try to flip

Come take a stab at it faggot, i pre-ordered your casket

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Killing till they're real rap people at the top instead manic flops

Remember this face, save me a place, in thug's mansion

Throw on some gucci shades cuz im blazed and i call that shit high fashion.

You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done

Now sit back and get smashed,or switch that and flip past not saying im awesome

Loc’s on, chucks low, black beanie dogpatron top wash straight from the liquor store

Baby you like saying my name the most on your gucci bag and more

They'll turn you and flip you like your food and their tongs.

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks