This is a song about "Bald"

Cards are stacked like casinos, and bald us like chemo,

Psycho, maestro, orchestrate the life with the right flow

He was grown with experience and bald as can be

I'm leaving you for the last time, baby

Right past the poor in clothes they can't afford

'bout to drop you cold stop you like mold crop you bald...

And my wrist froze, but i’m cool sha’, like a bald head, i’m too paid

That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade

Her redder header over a pie, bald

If you thought it, it better be what you want