This is a song about "Mr moon"

Mr. rebel don’t give a fuck

Bitches is artificially duck

Mr. right's running up,

She was the queen of the club

Yeah, them niggas spittin' while i'm dishing out a typhoon

Every afternoon after school crank the tunes and wait for the moon

Blood, sweat, and tears, it’ll be on your local walmart rack, soon

Some girls pull the dudes, literally, like the moon

Made some moves, now i'm known to spit december in june

So, please excuse me while i resume under this full moon.

You're starin as well cause you too were in tune

Leaving you laying there like your gazin at the moon

I'm not moving like a cartoon

And we gone to the moon

Bird gangs, it was birds i flew

Mr coleman, i'm coming for you