This is a song about "Factory workers spit"

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

Your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory

I take home billions and pay my workers eight bucks an hour,

But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her

Spit alot, spit so much could be car fluid

The shit is so bare, my diary isn't hid

This mortal can kombat my raiden spit/

The real muscle in the message of that

See embraces, fall short on the numb tips of street entrepeneur fingers

What the fuck do i say to psychologists and social workers?

I know the world been waiting for that

So hold this 5th of liqueur and spit

And i ain't puttin' no rims on it, when it's five hundred ya ride factory

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

Until she came trench coat and a thong and shit

Thousands of people gazing over what i spit