This is a song about "Sebastian forehead"

Of willing to aim, a gun, to your forehead, its not fun, to wish you were dead.

Leasin' a vehicle quick enough to see people that don't even exist yet

Red riding is getting some of this wolfly odder cock

My music is more graceful then johann sebastian bach,

Poppin' one dead in they forehead

Your friends say, why we not together yet

Blinded by all these street lights, up late, can't sleep nights

My forehead drenched in sweat, i turn the tides

Still my daddy forehead got some deepass wrinkles

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

You fool deserve a bravo followed by stamp hoe on your forehead

Bet you thirty dollars you find her like cartman found kenny, dead