This is a song about "Not being a party type"

And we're not the type who copies

Eyes all stickin' like honey on bees

See, mel made a couple milli sellin’ jesus passion

And not to mention it not only mean "being in a mansion"

American dreaming, days of a heathen running up in your building at night

Im a stoner, yeah, but im not a fucking hype, i just smoke weed of any type,

Trying to get back to this thing called love

Not a choice but shows being careless,

After a night of barcadi, booze, a party ruse with gentlemen pretends

I shall not fear no man but godthough i walk through the valley of death

Or not u're exclusde from the party online

What yo name is girl let me tell you mine

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

I'm not the type to threaten your making the selection