This is a song about "Dead mans hand"

Stay gold, alchemy, nigga we rap's alpha team

A mans on the ground, and thats not whipped cream

Like a church in debt

That rap is mostly dead/

And bijies like im out and

Cuz he was messing in no mans land

If only he was ghetto mans maybe we would sell a bit

Stuntin' for the fuck of it, i ain't with the sucka' shit

Of a small mans heart trying to get by

If you don't give a fuck, put your hands up high

Now hey little mama

Dead , shot etc

But your one lucky girl your mans here to pick you up

Under pressure i don't sweat like my pores shut

Sit the fuck down and enjoy this mans deepest confessions.

But love my music, say i do nothing but hits