This is a song about "Battle field sucks"

No longer with us; he's deceased

Come on bitch, get back to the cotton field

So i can understand police victims

Rhyming way too much, god this rap sucks

Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts

Bubbles and drains, it sucks

Been out in the field pickin' out those rhymes

And i'm right behind him in a coupe that we drive

After i axed the guy who asked why my rappin' sucks.

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

And you down, hold it down for my nigga them

Meet me at the battle field maybe we could solve em

I'm always out in the cotton field

Truthfully, some eye at least

We ain't buying cds, we striving to live

Her lifes a field of landmines