This is a song about "Please fix ya face"

If you got up stage and fruit meets ya face,

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

Fuck that shit, i don't give a fuck

Please put ya lighter’s up

Face still dry, wasnt born wit shit fuk ya slice of pie

I told her all about how we been living a lie

Smiling in my face as you said that, making contract with ya contact

Even now i keep a frown when i come arounddon't ask me about tha past

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Evicted from eden his seed stealing a fix

No offense ya bitch taking balls to the face like bowling pins

I just embrace it and take it in within my essence