This is a song about "Sweaty hands"

I ended someones life with these two hands

I'mma sip moscato and you gon' lose them pants

I'm on the stage, you in the stands

Wash the blood of your fucking hands

Surrounded by the thirst driven sweaty messes blocking the door

My visions that i record, the instruments i adore

But respect is more real, and ambition the key

Brows grow sweaty but every petty

My palms sweaty, the mic's slippin thru cemeteries

Give it back with a sensitive mouth and some hard knees

Her epidermis urgently sweaty like she was nervous

Sometimes you buy the ring, with no problems you will love

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

I ain't gotta try, work my hands