This is a song about "Buggy smalss"

Hatefull bags of pubic hair stair at the wound, so if you keep being buggy

Didn't know what to do the only thing i had on my mind was money over money

A baby who's dropped his dummy from the buggy,

The ones who wanted their family to have a little money

So i sit here in my room unsigned, waiting for the stars to align on my dream,

Medieval buggy like the cops' devices, passin',