This is a song about "My parkinson"

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

Weres my opinion, whats my religion,

I don't want plastic nation, dread that like a haitian

This is my original, my validation

You're so white, my blinkers don't work

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------

Never mind the rumors baby this is me and you

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

My demeanor, thirty years my senior

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2

This is just my year, just my day, and just my time

Y'all can keep all the trophies get at kim and i'm fine