This is a song about "Peanut heads"

We're barely making dollars at our peanut jobs, close to me,

Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

And bijies like im out and

Smackin heads on the pavement,

Slicing off heads is how i calla truce

Hating on my team until they see we won't lose

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

My mic's like a samuri its sliced heads,

Looking for dangerously hot bitches and safe sex

My tongue is da sword, double-edge, two heads

My conscious only knew whats half tight

Bucket heads and goonies in common sight

Blurting text with versing jests perplexing suburban heads

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

The root of all evil

Picking heads for oral