This is a song about "Artificial death in the west"

Deep down, i'm an emo fuckin' faggot that's depressed

Y'all should follow me, cause i'll be the next kanye west.

Selling my assets, i'm so damn illegal that i need to be arrest

Don't give me any crap talk, there's a lot in excess, might just move west

Clicquot for the girls in the tight dress

They will be in this game to the death

The decay in this life i've lived astounds me, the death,

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

Ugh, here we go again, rapping in west sydney we bring the pain.

Sang sittin there kickin it with malcolm, 'til the day came

And for the rest i'm the best in the west so don't test

I confessed bein' atheist, they said i was possessed

I stared death in the eyes a couple times

Aye, lifes a bitch, and i'm cuffing mines

Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest

Aint no easy task cleaning up the wild west.