This is a song about "Break up on the british and americans"

On this mic i turn satan, rappers fightin to break the horns

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

I'll take control and break the mold, and even though fakest hoes,

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

Woke up in a cold sweat and told the girl we had to break up

Out with the homies, cuz shorty wanna be a thug

We will never die, we are forever alive

The americans can no longer survive,

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

And that cocaine industry has us americans so fascinated,

Then send it through their chest and break through all the cartilage

I can't see your album coming, that shit's like a sucker punch

Listen up and listen hard, you break my trust

And you don't wanna go to clubs no more and

I'm on the british south east coast mate

At an extremly alarming rate