This is a song about "Cotton"

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

Go and get it motherfucker, if you murder kids

I rather give you my last to see you live again

Cotton instead of a blend maybe your name

Stealing a clip for anyone squealing they lips

Cotton to silk, motrin to tylenol - three pills

Miami bound with my d.c. chick and we let it fly when we in the club

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

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

And i swear, my lord, i been down to earth

So get your glass lift it up in the toast position

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

I am ryu-like to the fiend

I'm always out in the cotton field

Out in the cotton gin

With a little bit of passion