This is a song about "Horns"

Chomping at your oxygen chords

I have thoughts of gluing on horns on newborns,

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

I wore a helmet with horns and hold a sword of thorns

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

Like the saying goes mess with the bull and get the horns

I like to think i write and rap as tighter than some biker shorts

But underneath this hat was some hair and a pair of horns

But she gon’ get this dick and chew me up just like some double mint

It's automatic i win this - oh you hear those horns, you finished

That's the warning you missed, fool-- the horns that he spit

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split