This is a song about "Corn husks"

Leave yo brains lookin like some mushy corn flakes

Ugh, walking on water and running on waves

And i made it with that dope flow

Is it a corn row or a fro

While he lobs corn on the cob up into his fat fuckin' gob

I'm trynna beat up every beat until my feet at the top

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

So if it comes down, may the best man win

I'm a fucking walking paradox, no i'm not

Sitting forlorn, treating your dick like corn man you need god

The owner bout to prosecute, the niggas tell her that she's cute

You couldnt make a belemic puke on a piece of fuckin corn and peanut poop

Playing in the corn, wake up call

Hands up, throw me up against the wall