This is a song about "Charlotte sales"

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

Bring back record sales, i sail while i break records

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

When i'm through, i'll probably let you take it back

With sales of fish scales from triple beams i gleam

Of thinkinthese, are the dreams of a young teen

Im cuttin the sales and makin the scenes,

That's why i keep my pistol when i walk the streets

Money and power come to us through direct sales,

I don't do dishes but i throw away your plates