This is a song about "Space sex"

Leave the keys with that bitch, jets

It wasn't about the sex

Remmember i'm jade not a waist of space

Ben stiller, zoolander, same face

Just trying to decipher between violence and sex

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

I'm a son of a gun

Call me malcolm sex or tyson

Experimentation with inflation, float away in space and place a space station,

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

My bad, i just wanna gaze into space

This is no trial, this a closed case

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs

Looking for dangerously hot nigga's and safe sex

A coward dies a thousand deaths

I stay awake , dreaming for sex