This is a song about "Declining fall of the roman empire"

Motherfucking 8 balls, til’ we live at the pool hall

Above the clouds, so, so tall. shall even the gods of earth fall.

Maybe later on i'll give you a phone call

I'm the reason behind every fall

I dont need no chains with no cross to know that i’m blessed

I'm sick of seeing motherfuckers fall down from right to left,

Frightening, so fucking frightening

My mental state is declining

Don't always fuck me good, i'm just too cheap to divorce her

Receive a cult following my own empire

But the man on the edge who's willing to fall,

I'm so-cal, you so-called rappers need to go call

That you allow me to work it 'til you know what your actual worth means

The maskin' in dire of cavin' in. breakin' empire that's how it seems

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass