This is a song about "My hat"

Know what i do: manufacturing crack

I tip my hat off to you for that

That creased up white tee...fresh fitted raider hat...always stay strapped test me

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Out of the way, with the golden hat on the ground

Smoking loud, blowing down when the law ain't around

Watch as i find the bottom of the magic hat, the boldest unknown,

Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome

Diplomat hat jonathan's unhappy aftermath

That makes threemy laywers getting cash up the ass

And three hours in the showers with the corpse

Imagine if this hat was a crown of thorns

Cause i'm ill bitch, they couldn’t make a pill for the rap

Yeah, i told cornish women come at the drop of a hat