This is a song about "The 3 states of matter"

Gotta go, gotta goyeah baby, hahaha, it's check it out time

Trail of blood splatter, brain matter leading to the scene of the crime,

Leave the states make peace with myself and erase/

But you never come when you period is five days

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

Cuz the way her eyes glance like they playing in my pants

In three states you're accused of rape

If i should die before i wake

Said i'm just tryna do this quick like make haste

But that ain't the case, see it's a matter of taste

Or will we matter? in the end, this rendition of life

That's why they ride the bandwagon still be draggin' sellin' lies

Poke out from behind her

Now you ask whats the matter?