This is a song about "Sensation of creation"

Raw fusion, organized konfusionwickeder than most men: spice 1 and pooh man

No dedication, they argue it's because schools don't teach creation, ken ham

Got me rushed to the station

To this slim shady sensation

Gotta go, let her leave

Top of my pile of bodies

I don't want to grow up, i know that shit for a fact, nigga eighteen

Sedation comes before creation of that crazy blackened sheen

With my semen and oppressed by my give a fuck less

Bathing and enriching hopes and sensation of death,

Got it lock like styles sheek kiss and them

My creation, world's decision

It's a similar sensation/ as my mind is completely vacant

Never let another rap nigga hit it from back or the front

And everything on tv just a figment of imagination

A whole new creation of hidden lies up in the area 51 station