This is a song about "Servile timorously oscillate refractory amicably genially wisp"

I'm hooked on that good stuff

All we need is convienient love

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Dead trees or living trees, barbed wire or rusted fence

I felt a tear roll down my facethat was daddy's bullet

- with navy seals clips and some shovels in the whip

Bumpin c.s.f. in the whip and spittin some carcinogens/

The white boy sees this as a clearance, now its

You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes

They slept in death, hung from a wire that held their necks

Yo this raps just like a horror film, youre the victim in trouble

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Before i hit you with my abyssal vine whip

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

I probably would wear 'em but my dick don't fit

Mayonaise colored car, that shit's a miracle whip