This is a song about "Butterflies and aliens"

And kill yourself and your clique

I pray the lord my guns to keep

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

Call the network dipset family ties

Just know that you'll be leaving with butterflies

My slight fo's just talk dirty

Living young and wild and free

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

All the fucking hyenas probably call us aliens

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

After pleasure there’s paineven though we're broke for the moment

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

I call it speaking tongues

And a fridge and some broccoli

A military mind mean money