This is a song about "Under the moonli"

To me playing in the game is worth more than the seats

Love smothering widows til they freaking under the sheets

Right under your bed, when you look at the mirror

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

I polish off the impostors, under beds i'm a monster//

Hella proper, my garment is propeller of chopper

When you rapping how you rapping, bitches pack up and leave

Still hear that laughin under breath while the orlando police

Your wrists don't glist, get the pots out baby

I withstand the truth that is under me