This is a song about "Are souls"

And these shape-shifting hoes

Plastic hearts turn to plastic souls.

It's the rise of the reaper, collecting lost souls,

It's hot down there, fuck that, bitch i'm hot as coals

That they've sold their souls* to satan

What up girl, tell me how you been

Some kind souls come by, but then they disappear

And this the endso good luck with your career

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

Sos, save our souls. make me boss.

Laying live souls on your damn death bed,

Sunroof flow so over your head

My souls pressured to settle for so lesser

Let me go like this, ready for whatever

Grandma called, see me on the billboards around the city

Eating souls from fatalities granting me immortality,