This is a song about "Spread sheets"

Move around and spread the curse.

But we still real brothers

No coach bag if i go with that, snake skin tote that cobra clutch

Hands shifting these sheets creating a complex language

Just curl up between your sheets

But i ain’t jacking, i’m chasing dreams

Rather die making money than live poor and legal

Sheets made of egyptian silk material

They're busy bees, sipping tea while chillin' in their silky sheets

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

I'm giving testimonies to strangers i never met

You envy me, from the jealousy your hatred has spread

Can barely walk the city streets

Just curl up between your sheets

That's why i keep my pistol when i walk the streets

You're not unique, what, you got with my mom, in the sheets?