This is a song about "Kings cross station"

He took it to pitchfork, he couldn't get a sentence

Gun smokes in rings, graveyards is buried with kings

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

Kings are clashing and storm storms are slashing

This is the end station

Go where you ain't been

Days of kings, they been gone

Tats out and my hair long

That going through some things

Ballin like some young kings

So fat he has his own aviation station

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Hold it..now thank you for silence

Kings covered in potassium it clings