This is a song about "12 apostles"

Fearin what it show you, reality is gold

I've wanted to inhale since i was 12 years old

My pocket's fat, somebody check my blood pressure

Material, hypocritical dissenter

I slumped, in my chair and my grades

I dont know whether your apostles or saints

Tranquilizer guns fertilizing these soiled ones

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

Illumined enough above human injustice.

Tryin' to celebrate my independence day, will smith

So here i am at the store for some chips

Rolex on my wrist cost me 12 chickens