This is a song about "Bryce hairline"

Put it all on the table, do it like a menu

Only thing i havent got is more stitches than you

Running hip hop like 'pac in his prime

I took my number, i waited in line

Stitches in you. my phocus is to put you threw the window make another widow

In your ears as i kiss ya, on every curveslow down baby don't rush, i like it slow

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

I'm on autopilot now with my cranium split

To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did

Have these niggas falling off like hairs of my pubic.

Guess that means you can never be mine

Yeah, punch line after punch line, rhyme after rhyme/

Hate me if you want to but always remember this

Try to stop me imma leave you with stitches

This excrement means excellent rap, i make a lesser adapt

Menacing stares, he glares makin' the hairs all on the back of your neck stand