This is a song about "Fine clan"

I grew up with killas man, people who killed, man

If they hate, let 'em hate, i drop ya whole clan

As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt

Crushin up untill weed it is fine dust (fine dust)

It was just fate cause it wasn't my time

I've turned out almost fine,

Aight santana man...let's do this

I salivate at fine bitches

He told me that my eyes were fine,

Detonating when i rhyme a rhyme

If i had on 'bama line

Below atc you are still kinda fine

But let me be 100, see monogamy's redundant

Your clan with power and then an instrument,