This is a song about "Cold hearts"

So here i am at the store for some chips

Shallow life deep conversations hearts in ruins

Plastic hearts turn to plastic souls.

So while you worry about the hoes

I got these tats all on my arms

But they will never reach our hearts,

They need work, the freaks here makes their knees work

Both of their hearts are now shattered,

Sublime player of hearts to tha beat

For the whole week, no time for cold feet

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled

Hand to hand in the cold