This is a song about "Coca"

And fif’ here to lick on that coca-cola shit

Chris wallace said the sky was the limit

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

Your bitch kind of ugly but she sure fill up them jeans

Come get a taste, of the these coca lines

Blinded by all these street lights, up late, can't sleep nights

Be it spoken sugarcoated or zero coca coke, you're still just livin', dreaded fodder

Jealousy inside, make'em wish i diedoh my lord, tell me what i'm livin' for

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

With corrupt leaders and those overseers in the coca fields,