This is a song about "Tickle your pickle"

I'm everything that they call nice

Fuck your prison, fuck your life

And everybody's having sex

Your just signing your death so mind your threats

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Your lyres are cheat so hold your pen open your book-let

Fuck your bars, fuck your demons,

A rebel tho, i dont hold my lips

I be laughin' to the bank like the fuckin' money tickle

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

To see me and my chicks in dkny kicks

Your on fire.. your on fire

I ain't talkative neither