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

I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands

Fuck crappy haircuts and these khaki pants,

As i light one for ill will

Yeah my weed is purple

Fuck you post-drake-ass cliche-jerking, la-slauson rapping

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

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

I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deepi guess it's hard for you to see

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

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

I got a green bag with them blue strands

To the same plant, and the same pants

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Its no days off, although i'm bored to work

Blood on your shirt, burst, when you rap and attack,

Soon as i turn the bottle more liquor spillin' back