This is a song about "Cold harded killer"

And i'm still hurtin over pops

I have no killer degree, cause

When you thinking about breakfast i'm heating up my dinner

The next god of thriller, a mother fucking serial killer,

Figures i'm the real figure, the god killer,

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

All this flow that i give em, i live by the code and i'll leave her

Call me the winner, the criminal spitter, subliminal killer

Skipping class and growing cold

Is a space that now you hold

I can do that to a nigga and make a pool on her

Journey in the mind of this serial killer