This is a song about "Twenty one pilots"

This battles blackjack my lyric score gets twenty one,

Wonder how shit like the qu'ran and the bible was written

You're goin' to hear this and begin to ride on my dick

Twenty years past and my mind's cultivated

Honey brown, caramel, coffee brown, chocolate

With just twenty five bucks in his wallet

It is super sized, number twenty six

Just another product of this matrix

At twenty eight i'll have plenty of taste

But, shorty i'm far from a saint

Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs

Tell me who's as rad as us and the answer was

Twenty one gun salute that's for justin

And if you not convinced keep on promotin' them

Went out and had a church of kids

Microphone is a plane,mcs are pilots