This is a song about "Cutting off everyone"

They were partying i was cutting tracks

Sorry mr. charlie won't chap dance

Everyone wonders where we gone off to

'n' they don’t photograph, nah they don't sex like you

And every night, believe, we gon' leave with somebody

I'm trunks with a ninja sword, cutting through frieza's body

Holding a saw for cutting my victims into fours

My father was missing, war lord oliver north

Penncounting pennys over tha years

Cutting behind closed shutters,

Or even fucking cutting in bed/

You already know you're dead

I treat bitches straight up, like simon says

Got the blacksmith cutting me some axes,

And i'm man-genie, flyer than the rest of them

Worse than the wrists your cutting to get em