This is a song about "Reflection and refraction no curse words"

I've got a paper plane, it's propelling my buzz

Slurring nouns and verbs and fucking curse words at the worthless

And when you niggas realize that we all can't be in your fuckin reflection

Allowing me to calculate and measure the depths of my depression,

The birds i knew flip birds

Drumming, and processing these words

Pissed off images not my reflection

The world should turn as soon as my records spin

No words generating from his pen and looming on the lead

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

Im a ghost cant shake me, no escape the curse hovers

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

Shout out bobby on hundreds

No grief into these words