This is a song about "Fully automated luxury gay space communism"

Colosseum cell bars, 2 men enter no space

If he don't show up, think i can take his place

She sit up at her desk on perez all day

You think im gay gay, what the hey hey

And i ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love

And their luxury life of crime, i'm writing rhymes on iron horses,

Left hand staggerin' on her muthafuckin' breast

The anger inside has never been fully addressed

Luxury life, results living bad

Shades dark as fuck so all i see is black

Ok you think a nigga shallow

Communism of fidel castro

Overseas or outer space

Thinking of bliss and the good days

Don't try to blow me, you fucking gay

I was gonna write you a poem today