This is a song about "Contracts"

That's the work of the reaper, doing contracts for the preacher,

Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her

Can't stand these hacks gettin' cash and contracts for their wack raps

They say hip-hop's dead, i believe it's just the fans

Contracts made from flesh written in blood i'm speechless,

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus