This is a song about "Working"

And if my mother answer, i'll ask her

But i'm not really working the corner,

For all the pedicures i've given to their camel toes they bring

So either i'm a sociopath or society just isn't working,

Certainly working on personal courtesies

Right back on my feet, i swear i'd never leave

Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin

I used to turn to churches for help but it wasn't working,

Body doze, who ? give em karate blows

I remember shotguns and modest working class homes,

+big daddy+, no +kane+, get the job done

Not working. shot, choking, broken.

Got racks, ain’t talking tits

I'm working on four dimensions

About disaster in the world and

Since you love working that chrome junk