This is a song about "Scissor hands"

I got a green bag with them blue strands

I ain't gotta try, work my hands

I never change, i'm like a corpse in a coffin, six feet shit's deep

Or slowly scissor cut you in to quarter portions to eat

That's why my hands stay ready

On they twitter writing novels, see

I'm popping rubber bands

I welcome with my hands,

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

That dance about, chant his name and insanely clap hands.

I ended someones life with these two hands

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands