This is a song about "A fuck boy called sam"

And tell ‘em that i don’t give a damn

I'm more furious then serious sam

Ain't like my job or guys i employ

Okay son be a good boy

All the kids say i’m a bad boy

Yo my mommy toy was my pride and joy

The world's too much for the soul to enjoy

Start a mosh pit in that crowd boy

A name with a vision boy called aspect,

Deliver the bomb shit from the east to west

Got her going down, no teeth

By a gang called the police

Have to move that bitch so far she need a postcard

A poor white southern boy, fuck it, life, i should nail it hard,

So i guess that's where i hide my things

So what i say boy, is... fuck critics