This is a song about "Cutting"

I was born to do the damn thing

The ones who spent their days cutting

Tats all on my arm, these hoes say i'm that bomb

I'm cutting you up like a hair salon

Cutting past the wrists into the pissed anger fits

There's no answer for it, these rhetorical lyrics

Something like rihanna while i’m up in that vagina

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

They slowly showin they colors

Cutting behind closed shutters,

I work hard for everything i get

Or even fucking cutting in bed/

It doesn't matter who's affected we're all connected and being focused

Erupting volcanic, satanic cutting, wrist after wrist, im not sad im just pissed,

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

Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she