This is a song about "Wooden"

My realm is shillack, my wooden floor's got a crack

And goin' half on a motherfuckin' hundred sack

I can finally rest in piece and sit in my wooden chair.

Perfume everywhere, girls are everywhere

I feel something change in the weather, and i’m home, home, home

But a pole position you couldn't hold, not even your own wooden bone

Rotting in a graveyard garden, six feet deep in your wooden coffin

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin