This is a song about "Shell tops"

I got lights on my wrist that’ll flash like cop

My peoples sale rock, & cell blocks, got us shell shock

I got my finger on the mothafuckin' pistol

Got my fucking dick harder than the shell that's on a turtle

From hearing your novelle someone will expel the details of a shell

And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is fucking chanel

I let of my nine and let the shell burst through your spine

Selling cane, getting brain, at the same damn time

Whole lot of cobras with dope like soap bars

Black sneakers. black tops. talking smack while the smack drops

Jacking off to buffering vids of asher roth eating apple sauce

In case you forgot or fell off i'm still hot - knock your shell off

And he aint even cum, she just started licking tops

The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win