This is a song about "Sweaty jugs"

Lock my heart up, this is jail, throw away the key

I'm hot, and ready you better be sweaty,

Done be ashamed-it ain't no thang, i used to blow trees

My palms sweaty, the mic's slippin thru cemeteries

My visions that i record, the instruments i adore

Surrounded by the thirst driven sweaty messes blocking the door

Brows grow sweaty but every petty

Now don’t it sound legendary

All the lintel jugs like simpletons thinking these pigs is

And a finger in the middle that i leave em with

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

True thugs, guzzle mugs, jugs, mean mugs, no hugs,

Her epidermis urgently sweaty like she was nervous

With canons hanging from our necks like it's a mothafuckin' circus

The money trees, triple beam, the dreams of jugs,

Stack up your funds like a million bucks