This is a song about "The fart"

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

Silver bullets, purple piff, blue pills, grey goose

In the coupe with the tec, it's the home of the brave

It came to the point he couldn't look 'em in the face

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

Like a small garage in your backyard

Chat so much shit you should speak threw a fart

Half my peers, they're stretched for years

Fuck the haterz, fuck the doubters

And when you fuckin' for the night, you don't need a heart

I'll use you to whipe a wet fart so your playin your part

I'm tryna feel the vibe of mona lisa, studying art

I make art while your shits rusty soundin worse than a dusty fart