This is a song about "Your ancient"

Huh, a metaphor of course

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

Then the world ain't no trick no more

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

Private plane tsa can kiss my ass

Your on fire.. your on fire

I thought i recognized her

Your family, your friends,

To increase my ends

Leave your running to your mamma,

Lucky seven probably poppa

Freezing your nose, your eyes, your corneas,

That scary love, never get married love