This is a song about "Twenty one pilots"

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs

Poor people get twenty years, so much for created equal,

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

I got my mind sold by the devil, bought in dollars got it for twenty

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

Look dog, don't be asking for dame, see

Fuck them college girls the pussy best when twenty

Smile on my face got me feeling like the shit

Twenty years past and my mind's cultivated

Twenty years was enough to see

Bitch, they call it motor city

Microphone is a plane,mcs are pilots

They gettin chips, they flippin bricks