This is a song about "White shirt"

Ain't heard a nigga thorough, it ain't perfect, but i work

I'm sensitive, i can feel hurt, just by you shitting on my shirt/

With a shirt saying fuck the world.

Long as she come to me first

Then i vomit on your t shirt like it's mom's spaghetti

And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see

It hurts, the worst hurt like gettin burnt beneath your shirt crease,

Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys

Oh-kay, here's the situation

Soaked smelly t-shirt, let my heart do a spin.

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Keep that tucked ‘fore somebody get hurt

Its no days off, although i'm bored to work

Stop the crying there mascara on her shirt

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

Vomited on this teacher's t shirt, he asked me to leave