This is a song about "Scissor hands"

How come he's not in counseling? fucka's loud while he's sound asleep

Or slowly scissor cut you in to quarter portions to eat

Everybody ,your hands up high,

Tears that our fore fathers cry

Ive been rollin with my hands

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

My hands move by themselves

Sweet, okay makes sense

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

Ain't really stand a chance but i'm coming for them hands

The beatles to nirvana, take the gun outta his hands

I'mma sip moscato and you gon' lose them pants

I'm on the stage, you in the stands

Wash the blood of your fucking hands

I can only imagine

Remove their hands, they got none