This is a song about "The taste of ink"

Lead the human race away from a foolish place of bad music taste

Maybe that's why i've got a brain that acts practically raped,

Let's go shopping, get your purse, them bitches be tricking first

And finish my unwrittens with the new ink i've acquired

At twenty eight i'll have plenty of taste

I'm using my tooth bait to get that bitches teeth paste

I'd rather be in chains as i taste the flavour of the tub,

I’m a bad boy, bitch, ask puff, sip ciroc its my last cup

Before you know it, she wet enough to get drowned slow

And all he wanted was a taste of the rainbow.

Money goes to waste for the taste of this paste,

My name hold weight and you don't really keep the bar raised

Ridin’ in a cl, hope i never see jail

You are right the taste of hate has grown stale