This is a song about "Old finnish people with things on their heads"

On top of me the feds, economy's poverty, gotta be the heads,

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense

People tryna get a pic with their app flash zoom

My legion is doom, my gorilla's monsoon

I stuff you in the trunk, drunk

Smackin heads on the pavement,

Blurting text with versing jests perplexing suburban heads

You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

The simple things in life were getting pretty old

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads

No i aint get respect, old heads pay me no mine like i aint make a threat

Leasin' a vehicle quick enough to see people that don't even exist yet

And other people stopped bothering me with there old and new secrets,

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks