This is a song about "Moms"

Permanent brain damage similar to tattoos

Karma grasped and the moms collapsed from the news

And movin' you moanin', music on the counter in the kitchen

We crack jokes about life, our moms, and brother's chicken,

Call your moms, tell her to plan yer burial

We don't believe you, you need more people

But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her

Meanwhile, your moms just lookin for the #highest #bidder

Not feeling yall but im feeling ya moms

And i'm still hurtin over pops

And single moms were doing drugs, kids had nothing to eat,

This is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

With more & more rap material, i got you and ya moms

I can teach you all the sounds of love

My moms turn-for-the-worst are turntables/