This is a song about "Orange bastards"

But anyway i want to make sure that i have to calibrate with an orange

Walk like i'm drunk, swagga so uhgodyard trunks go around i got a bunch

But guarantee all of my women got designer drawers

Vivid detailed scriptures about purple rain on orange floors,

You know big-breast girls

You psychedelic bastards

'round the clock, till i make my own clockwork of orange,

Play a song, invade a thong, my dick is havin' guts for lunch

How did all them bastards get a good job, good life,

Becoming someone you don't recognize

I'll straight drop your ass, here comes "clockwork orange",

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

He lying i’m on papers

Nasty words, bastards, worse

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

You're dirty like the jersey shore with those orange hoes.