This is a song about "Wrinkly shirt"

He can finally help me masturbate and read fan mail

You wear a shirt, my records even in a jail

I'm on an emotional roller coaster with no shirt

Next to it: stash mattress. under it: cash, bastard

Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues

My kostons are the reason that you tossed your wrinkly leather shoes

You, you and you're saying "shit, i been had that

Blood on your shirt, burst, when you rap and attack,

Lift her shirt them titties bezerk (damn girl)

Try counting sheep little girl, yull become dizzy heads in a swirl

Everyday is a new story, pick up my rosary, and turn my shirt around like rotary,

Commence to poppin' motherfuckers copy it fatalefficiently i delete then flee

Yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this record

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

You can get naked or just keep on your shirt

Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb