This is a song about "Final"

The final fatality,

Like hoes down in magic city

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

Even in your final act, such an ultimate crime, they have faith in you, a sound belief,

And roars at hearth, the final farce, has come to pass/

My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass

As i light one for ill will

And it aint my final

She bend it over, make that thing look like a work of art

I've got your final symphony planned out, in tune with a harp

6 feet deep in the ground your final destination

That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win

Came bursting out in one final shot,

Hi my name is bob and i work at my job

They hurting against a cypher's feat, from first to final, the guy to beat is me

It's difficult to let it goi'm startin' to loose my hair cause i worry