This is a song about "Stabbin"

Stabbin' guys minds with young britches thinkin' they too grown

The streets in need of a king, you can tell 'em i’m home

Then stick his clipped nails in the licorice and continue stabbin' him wit it,

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

Platinum the minimum, maximum is stabbin' eminem,

I don't give a fuck either like father, like son, i'm done

My mind is split, i cant go a day without stabbin my wrist

Break himand let him see tha face of a mental patient