This is a song about "Cask of amontillado"

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

I think it's only right, hoarse and everything

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Trying to get back to this thing called love

Of being of always getting wired

I hear my niggas screaming fuck the world

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Instead of living this life of violent crime

On my twitter writing raps, at the same damn time

Is there any love

Of potential cases