This is a song about "My chic"

They had a hell of a run

Grab my knife and my gun

My streaks my testament.

Attention is a must

My shit thigh like my bootstraps

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

Inside my eyes, cameras replaced my rods and my cones

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

These my rhymes and my story

Got my head in my hands.

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

See my pain through my eyes,

Fuck trout, you bout? let's fish for ice