This is a song about "Potato llamas in space with hair gel"

So either you dont believe in a nigga dreams

Bloody hair tangles as i hang out with these priests

With rain pouring down her already wet hair

I mean me is there, but it's like three there

Butthemorethatitry to understand just leaves hair in my hands.

Bogus bureaucrats with no backbone befriend bullshit brands

I think the fuckin product in your hair leaked through

Win or losered or bluewe must all stay true

If you think imma furnish my space with worthless little verses

So bitches hate to do me like it's convict community service

Wale, real nigga, where the totem, blowin' bomb haze

Spray your face with mace till you start to see space

Meet me in the tele where the lobby at, i'm probably there

Anything to please us. comin up with words out of no where got some hair

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

With his funny ass laugh and his fuckin shitty ass hair,