This is a song about "Cutting shapes"

The thugs say i'm cool

Cutting class for the pool

The shit was so ahead, thought we was all dead

Or even fucking cutting in bed/

And maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for

When i'm cutting up the pieces of the skin like a barber,

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

Already hating shit and pissing off and cutting wrists

No more cutting grams, and wrapping grands up in rubberbands, i'm a

But that's a lie, so give this thug a tryi'd rather be ya nigga

Got the blacksmith cutting me some axes,

Welcome back to class, bitch, grab on to your glasses

They were partying i was cutting tracks

Glad trash bags, throw them in the black bags