This is a song about "Sweaty butch racks"

I found myself losing focus at a sunday service

Her epidermis urgently sweaty like she was nervous

So pass the weed, i'll rob the game up like butch cassidy,

My education stopped at a high school degree

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

It leaves your heart with contusions and racks your brain with delusions

You ain't ready, i can tell cuz your hands sweaty/

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

Surrounded by the thirst driven sweaty messes blocking the door

My nigga o that's like my bro without the same damn mom

Stack a gang of bricks racks on racks get our grind on

We getting money, you can face the facts

You killing all these jacks?your from the racks

Your bitch likely tricking off and bruising up her knees

My palms sweaty, the mic's slippin thru cemeteries