This is a song about "Racing pigeons"

I was born to do the damn thing

Nothing making sense all my thoughts racing

Crossing all the lines, time is only racing time

I don't shop in the public, ain't finna wait in line

Middle finger missing so i can not give a fuck

My brain is fuckin racing shit i'm spacing like a plain nut

You know that love is a very serious thing

You'll think its a simulation when we spirit racing

I changed the station, my brain was racing, pacing crazy slow,

Used to nun-chuck em, now i got to donatello bow

Psycho, maestro, orchestrate the life with the right flow

Rappers try racing with me they were born slow

I said that i loved you, heartbeats when you get near

No badass here, just a slacking rat racing queer.

I'm looking for a hiding station and my heart is racing

Only thing omitted is a baby or a wedding ring