This is a song about "Orange fat lama"

Spitting hot shit like a lama in some lava,

The beer flowin' like water, louie bag with the prada

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

They vaguely decipher my language

I'm still, just like a kid, lookin for stripes on my belt

We all follow the decree of dali lama, forget

West coast niggas got more roots than a orange tree,

And the discography, somethin' you got to see

Tryna see if real lyric spittin can buy me a porsche

Vivid detailed scriptures about purple rain on orange floors,

Cuz i acknowledge i am far more knowledge

The numbness of reality like an orange

Crunching cheetos between my teeth turning em orange from white,

Heard you had a bad day, well lets make it a good night

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

I'm kobe in an orange jersey