This is a song about "Birds of war"

I've got to go and spit a lot of flow but bitch this isn't war,

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

And skinny jeans ain't quite the lick

The final war of the whack and sick

Look it something they can't ever see

On the brink of war, shit's bout to get gory/

Love my women with high heels and high standards

Sitting here spitting these words talking to birds

Tryin to torture em to tell, i'm gettin mailbut ain't nobody sayin much, the same old nuts

And all of a sudden my nations discussion is tugging in a fucking war with arguments

Look, viewin life from the 36th floor

Keep it aggressive, peace don of war,

Actions speak louder than words

My words, skillful like flying birds,

Cause i run up in them and i make their cats meow

It'll sound like the acronym for prisoner of war (pow)