This is a song about "Foxes boxes bunches punches crosses wishes peaches dresses matches torches catastrophe"

Lights out i can't see nothing, think i need some matches

Say a grown man can separate lust from love

So, naturally, catastrophe and atrophy used to be attached to me.

B.i.g. said it; so i entertain like cedricstandin on the trunk roof top unit city

So i guess that's where i hide my things

And punches thrown with metal rings

So you can see why they mad, look at they status

In a hairy mess, doused with gas, light her dress with matches

We're freaky leeches, no sweet peaches or cream,

I get paper like i a mail box, seen

Tell me who's as rad as us and the answer was

Your dropping more names than ups drops boxes

Do you want to cause another catastrophe

I tell em "honey, i no cher" i'm so sunny

Innumerable bone crosses and flying saucers

Take a shot at the excorcist then x em out with these words