This is a song about "Such skill"

It's moe, all i need is more chips

Pure trash infused with such elegance,

You see this ain't no a skill

As i light one for ill will

Trying to give them light and a message

As every rhyme mattered as such

It's terminally, permanently, seriously ill

Y'all can't stand up on my level, can't reach my lyrical skill,

Bodyguard for what? dog, i'd rather shoot

Taking out such a pivotal group

I'm gon remember her, but still

And my necessary skill/

Takin' shots of poon juice to the head for a cheap thrill

Is when a person has a artistic skill

I give her vicoden relief you just an aspirin pill

While ur not looking ill switch our glasses with freaking skill