This is a song about "I hate ireland"

That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade

The realism i see inside you is fake / (so you hate)

Smoke until i ain't got no lungs

I hate your fucking guts.

And none drum, iller than ninth wonder

I hate you and your mother,

I hate the condescending

Straight g thing, double m g thing

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

Lying is the shit in which i most hate!

Its the things that i hate

Talk sharp like a razor blade

Regardless to all them, i appease her

And i hate the chilly weather