This is a song about "Corn rows"

Alright, yeah, nigga, i was in the mall

Playing in the corn, wake up call

In front of our building, they was my heroes

It doesn’t matter how loved you are, the rows at your shows,

Your enemies was the prey and now you pray to god

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

And you are to serve the consequences of your evil schemes

Running around the corner, darting past rows of teens,

I sit on the stage, no rows at my shows, i live in a cage,

A-t-l they know my name, magic city throw some change

He eats rows of em with mustard

Gotta work - slight work