This is a song about "My granddad"

Bet i get like 8 of them

Dissecting my specimen

My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

My nitty bag, my kitty boost

Keepin everything to there selves like ye, vincent moved.

Caught up and slipping for fearing a mcdonald’s position

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

Magic city tipping them

My words are my rhythm

What we gotta do to survive

See my pain through my eyes,

This is my original, my validation

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

And when it's said and done

Grab my knife and my gun