This is a song about "Come may way"

I'm curious jorge, fuck what dem whores say

I've fucked up bad i think i may

So close i could give flip a play

Plant, grow, harvest from june to may

I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last

Shouts and wards come my way, i don't feel relaxed

I swear the pen right across from hell, i can't cry

Riches haven't come my way, no matter what i try

Flyer than the rest of them

And whatever may come

How i think about you every day

Plant, grow, harvest from june to may

So muthafuck the system

And whatever may come

A nigga thorough, she knew it before i bought her car

Being born and brought up with scars may be no way to be a star