This is a song about "Dark souls"

And my songs when they reach they official

Souls reaped with a studded sickle

That they've sold their souls* to satan

Me and my microphone could be one

Writing from my heart, never end with dark

Guess i'll meet her right back at start

Alot of niggas fake who go to hard

Partakin' in the park, greenery after dark

I talk to myself in the dark

Hoes pop from the corda to hope park

In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes

I see so many familiar faces, amongst these damned souls,

It's the rise of the reaper, collecting lost souls,

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

Hope all over again, we can start

Shot in the dark, shot in the dark