This is a song about "The creator"

Cold, my style making my nose run

To the voice of the oblivion,

Your mother was a baby boomer i fucked her on a table at hooters and passed her to my shooters

Never seen a creator consulting his users all the others are faggots, all the others are losers

Your the boat without the paddle

Lady at the frank stand will

Stir up all these feelings inside of her

I make my own decisions, i'm the creator

But if so, i'll take the scorn, indeed happily

The good comes with the bad, the bad with the ugly

Be the lion of the zoo be the glue of the bottle be the air of the world,

Hearing this rapper kendrick whirling the words like the movement of worms is what i've learned,

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

Spit that raw shit, y'all some talkative condoms, fall back