This is a song about "Cotton"

Did you fix me up, i'm your number 1 fiend

Come on bitch, get back to the cotton field

Backing up, like juvenile biggest fan was a moving truck

When ever i think of you michael i allways fucking think "cotton bud"!

I am ryu-like to the fiend

I'm always out in the cotton field

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

Self-awarding, negligence of the less important

Nigga, don't be nervous nigga, say somethin'; trust me guys, he can rap

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

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve

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

Hit my peak, think i need a drink, cotton so bad call me joe. twist those bags rollin in dough.

Creep with methrough that immortal flowthug passion got you tremblinglike death on the row

Cotton instead of a blend maybe your name

I'm babe ruth in this game, beige coupe in the lane