This is a song about "Purple shirt and yoga pants"

Cause it doesn't seem really as simple

Un-saran wrap the purple

My hands grabbing everything in sight, and my pants sagging,

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

Somalia women ethiopian queens never could tell the difference

Flying higher than a rocket because i'm on these blue,yellow,and purple pills

And a 'please to meet cha' when they reach in, the deep ends of your knee pants

Then i'mma throw this money while you do it with no hands

I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands

To the same plant, and the same pants

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

Two for the pads, and two to take down your momma's pants

Soak in the blue, till it turned purple

You can call it commercial

Commence to poppin' motherfuckers copy it fatalefficiently i delete then flee

Everyday is a new story, pick up my rosary, and turn my shirt around like rotary,