This is a song about "Chechen wings"

With dorhinge (door-hinge), which swings 'n' flings, correlating to the physics of wings,

As i sit and think im thinking fuck the president kill him with no evidence

As: i’m layin’ in the cut waitin’ for your mom

You fags wear #jeremy #scott #wings, fly sneakers on

I’m so fly even though i don’t even got me a pair of wings.

Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings

I'm on the verge of excellence kill em off with no evidence

Tethered strings are severed quick that've held all my feather wings

Everybody seems to misread every sentence

He wishes he had a pair of wings

The .45 for you niggas with nine lives

Y'all always on that bs and ps i'm takin all things

Bitch, am like a maxipad, cuz i got wings,

You can pick apart my raps, i ain’t told ya na’ lie

Spread our wings and fly up up to the sky