This is a song about "Lewis arthur"

Just who is malcolm sex

Leave the keys with that bitch, jets

Get ready to hail to the king

This ain't easy, im thinking

Or her mother, or her mother's other lover

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

If they ain’t talking bout paper

Hey anger is a larger danger

I tacked, now my eyes bare they aren't john smith blank stares,

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

Cause i’m back on my grind

(x2)there is no art to find

This for my people that stressing whenever times is hard

Spit it gershwin, picture perfect, this shit is purely art,