This is a song about "Punching bongs"

In a boxing ring, swinging at the cancer but hitting the punching bag.

Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag

Until we learn to pray, keep our families in shake

Punching above your weight you absolute reprobate

If your head right, i’ll be there every night

Smokin bowls out of bongs and sniffin lines of white

I'm tyler, mr. green hat, pro-abortion anti-clean rap

You shouldn't have used my face for punching bag you fucking fag,

Gotta give her da good i'm liking da wood and now it's over lady

Slaying when campaigning punching babies as if i was cam brady/

I scream up toward the skies, punching the ground for you to come back as i sat

No magic out the hattell baby bye bye, i'm never coming back