This is a song about "Damned"

A fuckin' sausage fest will them shaky niggas get married then

And he'll be damned if he's gonna put up with that line again

Once i'm on a roll, you don't want to challenge me, i can't control the damned

Hustlin' in each and every ghetto with a mic in my hand

That grow those damned trees, blood on the leaves

In private, not public in the streets

I still got your letters laying in my dresser drawer

Then waking up in the morning sore next to a damned dead blonde whore

You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet

So now i walk around without a god damned head

The future for our youth's group is damned, the roots,

This the district where politicians is fucking goons

We try and stand, government help us or else we're damned

Box logo hoodies and goodies from buddies that understand

If i take an oath that mean i give up all my area code hoes

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.