This is a song about "Bums"

I do self evaluate, yeah, i know i've got some problems

They had discovered how matter can't be broken, now them bums

I never quit it, the youngest one of my mother's children

Packing a gun to punk you whackest of bums with no answers for son

Good kids make bad grown ups

Packing guns, n' tackling bums.

Dont vibe with bums... i'll bite my tongue and rip it out

I prefer your applause without a handout