This is a song about "Cinco de mayo"

I'll terrorize the cul-de-sac, rappers, i ain't holding back,

Where fiends always on that water like a lily pad

Fakes try to put me on de-frost, they be glossed,

Say the word and i'mma give you what you want

You cross dress like oscar de hoya, your life's a cock fest

I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed

Fif-tee /nine times till ya de-ceased/ im sick son new form of disease/

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point

Motor city's gritty, clowns like you get bent and then de-stroyed

We can talk things over a little a while

That i couldn't leave even semi-free on cinco de mile*