This is a song about "Your gf"

They think they bring that pain

Blood stain, your slain, your brain

Not relying on the light no more

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

In this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise

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

My records sell, yes sir

Your on fire.. your on fire

Leave your running to your mamma,

Lucky seven probably poppa

Fuck your prison, fuck your life

Before we see it's hard to live

Playing field ain't levelling the lane

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

Witnessing what i did for d.c. though

Fucking him like my gf emmy eya-eya o