This is a song about "Patricians and plebeians"

Hey, must be the money

And a fridge and some broccoli

And kill yourself and your clique

Get wit' memotherfucker don't sleep

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

But of course, i'm the white boy that shows no remorse

But got comma’s in my statement

And remember what i said and

Feel like the only rapper that look at you with no trouble

, iffy and pitiful , shitty and beautiful,

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Shout out my nigga miles

Patron black, uh, patron jones

And nasty remains and bones

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

As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt