This is a song about "Daughters"

Hard as mortars, guard the borders, hide the farmer daughters,

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

In the face of adversity, i prepared a verse to see

White ponies slaughtered by their daughters, get hotter in minestrone.

I think i need some tylenol you got me restless

My daughters will have brothers acting overprotective,

Its obvious i'm hot, your daughters in my ash tray

As you sit and pray, hoping the beatings'll go away

Ain't got started but your daughters wish it

Then the gun shot, but i wasn't hit

As your daughters kiss the filthy ground i stand and walk upon

I am not, let's consider me a little pecan

Okay, so play d, know what i mean

Sons and daughters, thanks for bein

I've slaughtered daughters

The richest place on earth