This is a song about "Shirts"

They don't have the guts to spit the rhymes,tearing my shirts has got their lines,

Cuz id be lyin and yall be fine chase bread with my dog muthafucka felines

And i swear, my lord, i been down to earth

They smoke black and wear black hats, with red shirts,

So dunn stay silent

We dont got our shirts scrunched

I smoke the greenest of medicine till the government let us win

Basically these basic bitches crop shirts til they're not covering

Take a shot at the excorcist then x em out with these words

C-squared wearin some hawaiian shirts, every one got there butt hurts,