This is a song about "Mystical styles"

My styles universal aliens feel it

That's g shit, i be bumping fiend shit

And if i must say right now, i think my styles on the brink.

But it was written in cursive for this king to exist

Ass shots in her seven jeans

High styles crumbling leaves

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Then there's me the neutral, mystical realistic

Gettin' mystical, bewitch this bitch,

Ain't nobody checking for your garbage

Competition's non-existant, plot just thickens mystical,

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Then the gun shot, but i wasn't hit

You boneheads styles not yet perfected

Shame on themyour legs too little and your t-shirt big

Then there's me the neutral, mystical realistic