This is a song about "Raymond and his yellow car and alan and his oh dear how sad"

And thank doom for his herbs/

Feel like i’m movin' backwards

It's his highness and the finest

Real nigga, that's just how i'm built

And ur never on his level

I'm mental, it's instrumental

I don’t mean to rush you girl

And he, what's his name, earl

Ticklin him go to his grave, skip him and visit his dog

Always keep a goalie on on me, i ain't for that maury talk

Hit me up in a couple days, we can try again

As a child his only friends were his dog, his page and his pen

I was angry and sad

That moschino shit is so back

And blast you with his fucking

I'm on the run, keep running