This is a song about "Fighting with soul"

And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is fucking chanel

Singing praises to the lord unto the lord with his soul ready to sell

Our controllers got your soul with foreclosures

One can never be judged when he dress like his brothers

That's your soul along with your principles and your morals

Sometimes you buy the ring, with no problems you will love

I got a big fear of flying

But im sick of the fighting

You must have won every pageant in america when you was young

Smoking opium, fighting with an enlightened draconian.

Let's roll a j and pretend we in love

Pleading with a soul in pieces

I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her

Death from exposure, submit your soul to torture, stuck with no closure.

Fighting chumps fighting like spartans

Now, nigga, it’s the prince