This is a song about "Pooped pants"

In the t.dot i'm a soldier with ranks

Fuck crappy haircuts and these khaki pants,

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

And they the ones talking bout tuckin gats in they pants!

I am only a fighter, in the form of a writer

Still you couldn't know my psyche, liar, pants on fire,

Forreal i'm aggravated that gon' abandon this shit

And i will pull down my pants and proceed to sit

I got a green bag with them blue strands

Why's the mouse sticky can you pickup your pants

And'll lift you up, like the pants on urkel

And everything is purple

Saggy pants an vacant faces,

See boy she been in love