This is a song about "Saint thomas becket"

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

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

Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised

Enemies wanting to finish me, mind your self as a saint,

Im trying to have a good saint patricks day, im sippin 40s,

Becoming a good rapper ain't that easy of a process

On the lord to visit the city of the saint

Look, just remember how that winning taste

You know how jay-z said he wasn't going for the charts

Im never apart, their bitches look like saint bernards

She swallowing killa cause she love the taste

Pretend to the judge that you were a saint

Asking her to meet me at six by the church of the saint to talk about things we had done and said

But then they'll have an accident and pick up another mani went to the bank to cash my check