This is a song about "Mystery skulls"

Bitches spittin their raps at me gingerly, smokin hickory, im a mystery,

Commence to poppin' motherfuckers copy it fatalefficiently i delete then flee

The of this girl will remain a fucking mystery

And i got a little big, keep it low key

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

Like shits never been so clear my future is no longer a mystery

I am known for my mystery

Ridin’ round, and this bitch dirty

But now i got a problem with that little white rock

Imma mystery man who sheds light with my lines of a god,

Got the seven on me like vick jersey

Until then my death is a rushing mystery

You say the art's dying, nah brother buy an album, the plan

Crack skulls with a frying pan and cooked you up like eggs and ham

Cause innocent women’ll stalk you if you fuck em good

Severed skulls with my skills using a skillet