This is a song about "Publicity"

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

Publicity my enemy and the one thing i really need

You'll lose all your publicity and will feel alone cause you decided to blow it out of the water,

My hands pulled apart from each other and feeling pleasantly numb as masochistic torture

To be the man in this wicked land underhanded hits are plannedscams are plotted over grams and rocks

Tracks amplified emceeing for publicity in a calmer manor, hammered petes tongs