This is a song about "Theoretical and experimental probability"

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

Forreal, i got a pole in the basement

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Or closed casket for our troubles

My only purpose in life to kill myself up on accident

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

But he don't rule a thing

And i'm dizzy and spinning

Moms really getting mad when i call you that

And some strawberries and some chocolate

Raps and beats and rhyme scheme,

Come see real niggas on my team

Let my angel sing

(experimental rhyming)