This is a song about "German pickle forks"

All fifty seein visions of me shot in the chestcouldn't rest, nah nigga i was stressed

German procrasinator, better invest in a nest to survive to be the best,

So i slipped my pickle in her eye

Now everybody put your hands up high

Until the buzz go away lets have a little fun

Shittin' on bitches like my fetishes are german,

You're faker than a german hot-dog with no mustard,

Then i redecorated, that mean my tables turned

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

It was my brain tellin me what to do cause i was in pickle

Now ur stuck in a pickle and this aint no dill

I like my glasses filled, as if it has to spill

Or tryna play around with bubbles and forks

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns