This is a song about "Mor"

That's my wicked humor, i'm more wicked than your wickedly vivid wishes,

With a evil twin who don't give two shits he's quick to fix the stitch in these snitches.

And use your blood as a drinking chaser after i down a baser

And it's gone, and i'm gone, with a feeling left to savour,

Rolling up a paper, blunt wraps go to vapor, in a puff,

I don't know how tis' realness could keep bringin' humor,cuz