This is a song about "Particles and mixtures"

And stop playing hide and seek,

More money that mean less sleep

And don't ever (and don't ever)

Jt: didn't get a gift for her

My only purpose in life to kill myself up on accident

And my tongue stay flicking, over clits and fucking lips and

She keep her eyes open and her fucking mouth closed

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Right now, so the boy can see it, i dont wanna be rude, neither crude, but fuck boy

Unanimously rythmical,ripping apart your rapping particles,i can destroy

I'm the head coach of the team

Raps and beats and rhyme scheme,

Living young and wild and free

While i'm making history

And get it again and again

If a nigga didn't fake like them