This is a song about "Wit killers"

They ain't killers they're a sleaze

4-3... yea, remember that please

Of felons, killers and monsters, so revealing and honest

I am only a man and i don't know what to think

Then pop the pain killers at a rate like i'm illiterate

Push the cellar ceiling up and make the tower tip

Then dipping with the fucking pen to go sin again

Making fillers and pillars the ranked killers, when

Until she came trench coat and a thong and shit

I bleed for thats who im rolling wit

Buying a killing product, giving killers my money, for some honey,

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

To see that this is my serial killers point of view.

Im from the side where silly niggas hate or they like you