This is a song about "Cotton"

I'm always out in the cotton field

I am ryu-like to the fiend

Niggas hate us, but we famous so i never blame them

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

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Nina on my femur is cocked ready for action

Out in the cotton gin

I say that keeps me going

Tryna make a difference where i'm from, where you live

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

Cotton instead of a blend maybe your name

Well, brenda's barely got a brain

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

This what it sound like if i sent my dad letters

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

Just gettin you a job then i zip that broad tryina get in them walls like ghost dad