This is a song about "Death of speaker knickers"

I stare in your eyes in your final moments of death

Now you probably wishing that you would have said yes

Carefree i don’t need the stress

The freshness of my breath bring your death

I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs

And now the chance of my death increases.

But i guess that shit's just tough love

Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress

Bathing and enriching hopes and sensation of death,

The death of my father is the reason for my hate...

Control our mental states, settle down and set it straight

As long as there is the opposite of death

Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears

This rap shit til the death of libertines

But you ain't never pleased, maybe you should leave