This is a song about "Your irrel"

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

She graduated top of the class

Without the sound of guns

Fuck your bars, fuck your demons,

Oh how she love the gangstas, they love them green ones

Freezing your nose, your eyes, your corneas,

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

She don't really care about anyone advice

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

That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups

Have they all forgot who made this golf shit hot again

Separating your body from your face then eating your name,

Lucky seven probably poppa

Leave your running to your mamma,

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Shove your head up your butt til ya see your own guts