This is a song about "Time to face facts mr satan"

Literally you gotta make attendancy to brilliantly detach the facts

And a 'please to meet cha' when they reach in, the deep ends of your knee pants

Shouts to mr rizzo

This summer gone be mine though

There soul to satan to make millions whats it to

Cops wanna cuff you, niggas wanna clap you

Niggas talkin' greasy, i'm the one that gave them they chance

Facin' time, in time i'll have nothin' to face like jason masks,

Me and satan vacatin to ancient alien places

But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love

You ain't gettin' dough, don't even come around them

Sensing sensations similar to satan/

Face the facts, 'cuz honesty is somethin' that our nation lacks,

Rocking black and gold stocking caps and fleur-de-lis shockey hats