This is a song about "Old rain boots"

And my brains travel like yung berg jewels

Or military personnel fatigues and boots,

Walk into my room thinking how to make moves

His mother's always worried, thinks that he's knocking boots,

He's knocking boots, never coulda dreamed they would prosecute,

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

Chance said he was praying for rain

Well rick james, maury jane

Throwing money up and making it rain/

I'm that extreme, so haters complain

Disaster and pain. spit fire like it's rain

I swear i'll never call you bitch again

Then i wait for them days to turn good again

And of course on my parade it should fucking rain

Aiyo, this is rain shady on the beat bitch. we bout to do it vintage old school

Because you are retarded and you know i will win this dual.