This is a song about "Per kristian"

Now the only guidance that i had is splattered on cement

Take some from the early bird and start chargin per compliment/

So i threw it in a rap so i'd remember that

Criminal intent, out of breath, reach limits per minute,

What the fuck? gee willikers and no, i'm not drunk

The ink spilling at 2 words per second

12 people per jury, ain't no mistakin'

In my search for fame will i change? i'm askin

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

It starts to go downhill by 9.8 meters per second per second

And this is only the second of eleven mics i'm wreckin' per second

If this was a game, i would be considered a mothafuckin' legend