This is a song about "Saint michael the archangel"

Faces, sex on the white sand beaches of saint thomas, though this ain't

They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint

Im never apart, their bitches look like saint bernards

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

The pain is horrible and for michael i gotta make it through somehow.

I lead on record's dedicaton for makin' better music is now

Don't take more than i can get to prevent waste

Pretend to the judge that you were a saint

Gucci & nike, that’s what i call an option

Mj or michael jackson whatever you call him

You could see in the faces of me, michael, my dad, anyone... my brother.

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

On the beach of saint-tropez, but your man don’t lay

She gon’ ride this dick, i had a long day

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Vocabulary is an armory, knives like michael