This is a song about "How much curtis is a fucktard"

How much i stabbed and press.

Yes sir, please confess

The best is that which i accept and nothing less

Puzzles me how she got so much, and made such a mess/

How many weed you're smoking, "#i'm #so #much #respected, #i #go #harder #than #a #guard #or #kern"

A cynical state of mind, untypical words with sophistical meaning, mystical turn/

In a room full of people so much is being said,

You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet

'cause this much thought in speakers is a rarity

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

Is how much goddamn pussy you can get at your home

Born alone, work alone, die alone