This is a song about "Existential dread and cramps"

Spitting till i feel lyrical cramps

He in bootcamp, you on food stamps

They share the same bed, instead of happiness they prefer dread

They ain’t sleeping until they know every customer fed

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

She keep her eyes open and her fucking mouth closed

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

I've been misled, yet, no matter how much death, dread or regret,

Party in your head there a club in your dread

Wait, you wanna fuckin' drown? go ahead

Social conditioning and

This is something different

Underhand shit dread of force you bought rich

They vaguely decipher my language

Fill up the plug, lemme light my blunt

Grab the scissors and saws and