This is a song about "Muck"

Higher in this messed up muck of slime/

D.c. pg is with me see that bentley that ain't mine

In a muck stealin from his mom's purse just to get by in life

But the love from the boppers had 'him watchin they rise

Sitting in the vile muck just awaiting for death

Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears

Fuck it, momma's proud of her asthmatic thin fuck

Ends in a fuck to cover up the muck we stew up,

Well be running a muck with our music, doorlists and business

And we way too young to know love, maybe not but we don't need no rush