This is a song about "Central coast ghost"

This my zombie circus, you better get a fuckin' ticket

He's coasting from coast to coast with a flow that he boasts over it,

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

East coast to west coast all across the nation

And be the last nigga left, then i'll be ghost

Scratch that, in fact ask the whole entire east coast!

My flow is tight and cold as ice, coast to coast it's right,

Murder for murder, the beef recycled is light

Dude your bad at call of duty ghost

You're like the sun and winter, my pot of gold

I watched people i know pray and catch the holy ghost

Im out ready to jet i'll meet you up coast