This is a song about "Sort"

I munch a bunch of tacos with waverly's favorite wizard

Imma show my true worth/ sort out the sour shit and skip to the dessert/

At least i'd have some sort of legacy, a chance to ever blow it,

Where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit

I was pretty nervous and sort of embarrassed

Tryna get inside your mind without that night shift

High heel wearer, hell of a body

Is this the sort of man you want to be?

Fat sack of knives in the passenger side, bitch

That i had some sort of edge, some kind of advantage,

Condoms, or any sort of protection

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Yet the kindest sort of soul- ya i know you

You ain't never shed light on nothing that they're going through

Got a sweet sixteen and they deadlier than sin

Gotta be a way to sort the operation.