This is a song about "This is a song about dicks"

//this song is dedicated to the american lower class

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

This ain't a song i'm just respondin to denice's shit son

Bout to plan a 211, murder your partner he'll meet you in heaven

Rape her and record it, then edit it with more shit

Well, this song is probably gonna be simplistic

So this to you, i present, is my final song.

And then i'll lay you down and record soft porn

They say i'm wrong and i'm heartless, but all along

You bitch'll need a tampon by the end of this little song

So how about a fair round with no riding of the dicks

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

But they aint religious, this song is contagious, like its a fuckin sickness,

And i'm the same, on e'erything i love, or everything i love