This is a song about "Eagles track and field"

Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back

As i sit back and reminisce memories on a hardcore track

Grow your ball sack and get on the track

When that money calls i holla back

I am ryu-like to the fiend

I been out in the cotton field

Yo sprawled out on the field and not moving

She floating round winners, now your bitch you losing

My father was missing, war lord oliver north

Pacing back and forth mind racing like a track horse

Two times for the chicks with the right bag

Don't go the dark side and follow that track

Someone murdered the track and ive been primely suspected

But you niggas too weak, but just give me 2 weeks and i'm good