This is a song about "Irrational and rational nimbers"

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

And once i'm dead and gone

I walked up and asked what's wrong

And some strawberries and some chocolate

Just pour me a glass of that dark shit

I call it speaking tongues

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Fracturing bones, acting irrational on my own

Fuck the source, i'm on cover of rolling stone

And we gotta win, she wanna be my friend

An passable irrational treat, a trend

But make sure if they do see

Living young and wild and free