This is a song about "Your moma"

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

Let me enter your life, lady we can spill our rice

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

Sure runnin' like i'm heavy hardcore

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

Of your image, your touch, your laugh

I'll hit you hooky like you skipping class

I think it excited her

Your on fire.. your on fire

Vertebrae snapped, gats...huh, i swerve em right

I'll be your companion ,your friend and your guide