This is a song about "Demons rise time for demise"

The temp of your blood will rise, hotter than the summer time.

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

Had to call on jesus cuz my life was in demise

Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

Not the money on my mind looking for a time when all when my talent shall it rise.

Its time for celebration

Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win

Rise up like a zombie and eat these fuckers for lunch

I can't see your album coming, that shit's like a sucker punch

As you niggas, niggas get familiar with the art of loss

You aint got time for no hoes, i aint even got time for time off

I bet i hit it where every rapper get killed, like

And every time i rise up they treat you, need you crucified,