This is a song about "Your borther"

Your family, your friends,

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

I'll hit you hooky like you skipping class

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

So much to say a scrabble game

Where's your wealth? where's your fame?

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

I breed 'em like i'm going to war

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

That going through some things

I'm fittin' shit, your hatin' it, your littleness, your genitals.

Out in the district they selling water and buying pistols

That's your soul along with your principles and your morals

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was