This is a song about "Rates and conversions"

Different stage, switching paces like i'm shifting strings

It's for the high crime rates for all that gang bang violence,

Young black males targeted by alarming arrest rates,

I don't do dishes but i throw away your plates

Hoping wes snipes make my life a bit different

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

But i did have miss medusa, she loud and she leave me stoned

Grab the scissors and saws and

Fill up the plug, lemme light my blunt

And nasty remains and bones

And i don't think homes

She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since

Fuck the tax rates! they've challenged my patience!

And my tongue stay flicking, over clits and fucking lips and

Underrated that's temporarily for the moment