This is a song about "The department of tresury"

Ships that sail to distant places

Cause america the terror of,

You should be running

The flooding of the nothing

In the face of the outside.

Left side, left side

The replacement of the word "mother"

And then along came the wrong man for her

Or maybe theyre called martians, wack killing's my department

Hopefully my dick don't shrivel up, when it's time to bust

Where i'm from they is ruthless

The one who em talks of

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

So im like fuck it, im out get on your head

To the voice of the oblivion,

Come get some, you little bum