This is a song about "Hollywood horror"

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

All i heard was a few pouts, i think they were the hollywood bash

The best part is the horror house, with zombies on the ground,

Got a bunch of haters, plus i got more to count

Horror rage, gave me deep scratches round my eyes

I'm official nice, y'all niggas fisher price

Disorders and generate horror within' recorders. i'm at my peak, my lyrical

I'ma rap deep you just talk burble i shot ma fiend off of me which instead made me much dull

From hollywood to the hood

Better than your bitch would

It's pain in my eyes but these yves saints blind you to look

I aint never been there, but i stay acting hollywood

Makes it seem like a horror scene

But i wear mine on my head, supreme

Tell them to keep it running, i’m keeping the grass cut

I won't ignore the horror that i know, but,