This is a song about "Hari cuts"

But all i really want is a kiss on the cheek

That’s why i strike first and the verse cuts deep

But i wear mine on my head, supreme

Cools cuts, make his meat real lean

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Or closed casket for our troubles

My dj cuts material....

Yeah come holla at your uncle

Covering their arms with cuts and spending all their money at starbucks

Every time she catch feelings she go throw away the gloves

Tattoo just covers cuts,

Where you welcome to problems

I know its showing i suffer paper cuts but it isn't enough

But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love

And it cuts like a knife. whenever i think of it.

Straight conch got a nigga feeling seasick, oh shit