This is a song about "Al quaeda"

Mixed with diluted cider brewed with, tools from al-qaeda units

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

But it was africa the continent we all came from

Could he be weird al, could he be jimmy fallon?

So kids say fuck school don't follow the rules they'll al be asking for your money

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Out-of-place and tore-up like al-qaeda with a jewish bible,

My nephew looking at me cause his daddy is his idol

Al give ye a tip seen as ye you canny see me visually

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money

Al-right, continue to impose my might.

And i'm indecisive when the things are light

I'm al capone in a fedora, execution on the church altar

Don't see this deeper than music, don't hear it but feel the author