This is a song about "My therapist"

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

You heard my name in my last rap but not my story

The therapist nicknamed me kid cudi, i killed my fifth buddy

Shoutout to maybach music, my logic is getting money

Got my head in my hands.

I'm popping rubber bands

8 in the morning when that street clock bust

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

Girls fast how jamaicans run

My words are my rhythm

My own unknown is my enemy,

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

Got a sweet sixteen and they deadlier than sin

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

My wondrous success bombs my regrets