This is a song about "Lyrical killer second coming"

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

No, i'm an intricate minded killer/

Lights coming up, night coming up,

And the governor couldn’t give one fuck

But she's not alonemiss independent

Funny 1st verse serious second,

Yeah, tell me about the love of ours

I have no killer degree, cause

Lying to yourself, all over an image

I'm gonna deliver that killer punch

To become a lyrical killer and slit your throat with a damn metaphor,

But fuck that, cindi was my dope fiend motherwelfare checks never stepped through the front door

It starts to go downhill by 9.8 meters per second per second

But every other part of you make me wanna depart and