This is a song about "Fall from the grace"

Let's pretend he was never forced to pray for the grace,

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

Cuz the grace won't recognize his face once i fucking waste him,

Desire get confused and you could lose your direction

Also, this mothafucka got a nine to five

Fall to rise, from a couple balls paused with white on knives

I'm gon remember her, but still

Cannonball, brawls, fall off the hill

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

Where but for the grace of god is it that i ought to be

So, why don't you fucking wipe that stupid look on your face

And maybe serving for the greater good will be my saving grace,

I'm sick of seeing motherfuckers fall down from right to left,

Great sex, she ain't slept, she can't rest tomorrows that big test

A bunch of fucking wolves and rats having niggers the size of shaq

Y'all boutta fall off the course from trying to stay on the track