This is a song about "Cotton"

Out in the cotton gin

We gone keep going

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

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

I got a lot to say, i don't hold my tongue

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

Now wait just one cotton pickin' second

A straight thug motherfucker who ain't scared to bust

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

Started from the cotton field but i made it pretty far.

Gas women then return ‘em like a rental car

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

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

I ain't never gonna bow down to your expectations

Waitin' in the fields to pick the cotton, sick and rotten nations,