This is a song about "Outer core"

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

I'm energize to the core, when they strain their vocal cords

Then i gut em to the core

You ain't gotta hit the club no more

And we don't fucking make horrorcore, you fucking idiots

Always biting his teeth, his outer lip was shrouded with countless slits

You burn my epidermis? i go beyond burning you're corneas with heat from a neutron core

I don't care about defeating me no more, i’m rapping you to reduce my pain, my sore,

Loud p.o.t. above y’all, patron at 4 am, fuck the last call

I'm "hard-core, see there's another metaphor

The money gets closer when you seem to be grindin' more

Till its feeble and manipulated, fitting to our core

Outer space every hour, every hour we blacks get devoured,

Yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this record

Overseas or outer space

Wordplay for days, smoking haze for days