This is a song about "Charlotte sales"

Bring back record sales, i sail while i break records

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

Gods words all cursed like crackshai-tan's way of gettin us back

Keep spitting like that, then you will be a charlotte bobcat

Im cuttin the sales and makin the scenes,

Half belizian, half from the phillipines

Maintaining my modest modest as i dream

With sales of fish scales from triple beams i gleam

When the relay starts i’m a runaway slave

Money and power come to us through direct sales,