This is a song about "Engine of the midfield"

King of the va, off of those toxins.

If we don't fix this then you'll see the same things

The things im most scared of

I feel my work ain't enough

They blast for me and i don't roll with no atheist

The disease of the wordsmith hidden inside of the mist

Gears begin to clash, engine starts to fail, black smoke trail- i'v gone off trail!

Turn into bitch ass niggasi'm sick of bein stuck in tha county jail

Shaved of the face of the earth

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Then take it down slow

Return of the king of flow

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

Threw the sack to his lil' niggas workin the set

And niggas slippin if they think the fucking grip is a lie

The little engine that could, this little nigga is good... aye....3 times aye...