This is a song about "Slashing"

And getting money is the song i sing

Kings are clashing and storm storms are slashing

Of the picture punchline figured out, ahh i get you

I'm smashing and slashing your face. what the fuck are you up to?

Lock my heart up, this is jail, throw away the key

I'm slashing throats until satan questions my sanity

Tried them didn't work, got impossible standards, nothing i ever do works

Slashing these words, flashing the birds. my speciality is gathering the herds,

And flashing warning lights while cops' throats i'm slashing

I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king

What held me back from slashing my wrist,

Gotta keep at it, gotta stay focused

Slashing at their wrists, wishing they'd die/

That's the window into the sky

Plenty of wrist slashing n' scrapes affects the groans,

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes