This is a song about "Fall of the western roman empire"

But pride come before the fall, bikini bottom

Rectum, i'm like a chromosome i always x them

Receive a cult following my own empire

I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either

Taste the bitter in your mouth when freedom did fall

Under ya nose a rose grew with no sun at all

Don't fall keep up ever time u here the sound of his voice

Hatin,’ need machine gunsall these niggas they broke boys

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

Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed

Imma ball to the day i fall

By the phone, no call

Like a tumble weed in the western breeze.

Y'all be the next in the long line of war stories

Above the clouds, so, so tall. shall even the gods of earth fall.

Mama bills piling up, her son don't got no time to ball