This is a song about "Sky records"

And in fact i can’t deny

And shoot the fucking sky,

Hop off my dick and make a fucking sandwich

Coming, shady records muthafucka we gone bitch

5s be raining from the sky

Keep your heads up high

Bring back record sales, i sail while i break records

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

Billy-club chainsaw, i’m coming through their front door

Punchline rapper what you think i make these records for?

Now i'm putting out these records so that hood shit is explained,

They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint

Look in the mirror

My records sell, yes sir

My records sell, yes sir

She should have invited her