This is a song about "Alex brushing his teech"

His only escape for his fuckin pops split,

Never use the word ours i'm living in the minute

He won't run away with his tail between his legs

You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes

Probably die getting some head

Pull his hat off hijack his sled

Took his head n' beckoned his mind

You can search but you'll never find

On his dying wish, his grave, his name, they set his astray house aflame,

Now you scratchin' on my back, i see your pleasure in my pain

And yes, his left wrist represents the way that his day go

And name another new nigga wit a sicker twitter follow

His attachment, flawed till his last breath/

They at the same spot they making no progress

Shitting his stock of cash out his ass

And i got that drive and she just might crash