This is a song about "Spin"

Twist and spin and slit my wrists until the mortician embalms me

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

He just throws it around

I make your head spin round,

Baby moms on greyhound for 8 hours

And they spin on my dick cinnamon swirls

That's why i shine like i does

Spin it like a circus

I begin to spin the blue bubbly bottle

Weird niggas make sick too i don't need no pistol

I could spin circles around you on any track

Undefeated gs and a t-shirt and my leaders hat

I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb

Nose round like the wheels that my rims spin on

Because they scared when i spin knobs

Trying to move foward, though it never stops