This is a song about "Soccer players"

I grew up in new orleans, ball players and rhyme stars,

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

When you making a difference it's gone be haters

Three major players gettin papers by the layers

Like a jet pilot, professional soccer player, a cop....

I'm optimistic like playing keeno with all that you got

I've become immune to you no name haters

Call 'em dumb players who are not sprayers

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

I do not want to get involved with drugdealers and players

Better yet they work my every nerve

Look deep inside my train of thoughts, gold ring players,

Straight over and told her mama there's a soccer game,

And i'm the only fucking rapper without a chain