This is a song about "Tops and wraps"

Drivin and typin, not payin attention, missin they next exit

I got a closet full of them thrift store tank tops, and you ain't even know it,

First off congratulations on the win

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

A hell of motherfucking road blocks

While yall walk down the street with yall halter tops

I don't care who exist, the exorcist moving bricks

Sitting on the high tops sniping you targets,

That's why i'm in the club like fuck it, though

Wraps around my head and grips me like a lasso.

Rolling a double rhouse full of happiness, weed and drank

Wrapped in plastic wraps, bleaches stacked, tools used to extract,

So much fuckin' white make darth vader have a dimmer force

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,