This is a song about "Brazil nuts"

A working genius, a work of art

Now i'm in brazil,i'm a bodyguard

Proud of the fact,that they're making you nuts,

Only feel sorry for crack babies and rape victims

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing

And my nuts stay hanging

And im going so fucking nuts

And my brains travel like yung berg jewels

But without you girl, i feel like i'm going nuts

We vegetables, on them record labels

Where you welcome to problems

And keep in my small shiny white nuts

Usually turn out to be the fakest ones

Would i want it to change? i would, i'll blast open nuts

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

And the paranoia's clutch was enough to rupture nuts