This is a song about "Your afro"

Who knows what the

Fuck your criteria

All the time with this glock of mines

Sethered your spine, your movement lines

Outside of popeyes eating chicken and fries

Ill cut your thtroat, chop your head and pluck out your eyes,

A lot of people called it last year

Run towards your dreams not towards your fear

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

But you don't have a chance

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

Of impactful things one can ask for