This is a song about "Resort job"

I'm a g, and this is something you can't see

Resort to playing before i bring the glory/

Like they're giving me a rim job

The clientele buy and sell like a pawn shop

Life was diggin’ me deeper, i kept on coming up short

I'm crazy as a ouija board, at a vacated beach resort,

And even though shit's trife at times, never resort to life of crime,

Beetle the skin on my female that's word to cee-lo she fine

So i can prove you bastards wrong, and fuckin finish the job

My nomo could be found in stores but the jersey only nomo got

Rich, 2pac and the click, smokin' blunts, loadin' clips

Who resort to wearing some little sweater jackets

When are ya gonna get ya self a job,

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop