This is a song about "Corn on the cob"

Spitting on the side walk cussing on the curb

Know i meant, every motherfuckin word

Choked the one on the throne

Music that y'all condone

I like a down-lookin, all for it, flower bomb

' alright, already, the show goes on

' alright, already, the show goes on

Flower bomb, matter fact she on that bong

I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb

' alright, already, the show goes on

Don't cross me, cause my friend, i'm no jesus

See me on a roll like the wheels on the bus

Swift-made switch blades made a big incision in him

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

Playing in the corn, wake up call

Bitch, i was born to ball