This is a song about "Cotton picker"

Still ain't got no ice, only cotton sweaters.

Penncounting pennys over tha years

I been out in the cotton field

Truthfully, some eye at least

Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence

Cotton to silk, motrin to tylenol - three pills

I wont forget about all the men forced to pick cotton and

As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt

Womanizing to say the least

I'm always out in the cotton field

I don't give a fuck either like father, like son, i'm done

Man i dread that through the dark nights like crimes of soft cotton

We gone keep going

Out in the cotton gin

You're trying to raise 2 bad kids on your ownand there's no way i can pay you back

Drape'd down n that benz boxxy truck wit oxy cut soft az cotton bunched in a bag