This is a song about "Agriculture"

Stop tryin to harvest your crop its done, its dead

Making love to the streets, they be lusting for bread

The clientele buy and sell like a pawn shop

For some nice hookers, the cream of the crop

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

And when i kick you to the ground, i'm shouting "science bitch"

Life was diggin’ me deeper, i kept on coming up short

'bout to drop you cold stop you like mold crop you bald...

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

He was very clever in english science and math

Hard as mortars, guard the borders, hide the farmer daughters,

And you can underrate me, but i know what i'm worth

I gotta know if it's real or not

Maybe if i just burn this crop

Bet the farm on the rhyme for the sake of my mom

Tho' memories fadei got your name tated on my arm