This is a song about "The bass"

Dropping tracks as much as skrillex drops the bass

I'll hit you hooky like you skipping class

You haters put up your guards

(verse 1 starts when bass starts)

Bass drop, low end is a gut punch

With rhyming skills, you in amish village

Shit this bass-ackwards hit list fills itself still no eye witness

I've got a paper plane, it's propelling my buzz

No one to hear your screams over the bass that's boomin'

Once the police get to cuffing, bet his homie deceive him

Blast the music up loud, crank the bass, smokin' chronic,

Where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit

And place words on the bass displaces, decapitates at the bases,

And we way too young to know love, maybe not but we don't need no rush

Subtweets lower than sub-bass blasting submarines,

And i ain't spend a minute up in the streets