This is a song about "Forget the devils"

Corpse straight to hell where the devils wants ya

Our children must be taught, of africa

Or the crack that they sell to put food in their kids

Red eyed demons whispering the devils secrets

Grief is the name its like i came from the devils womb

It feel like woodstock in a nigga dressing room

Push you into an old lady bagging plastic

Her father in his room sucking the devils dick,

Heeding a meeting with the devils anvil.

Be the ocean, where i unravel

Black foamposites, it's like we on that mobbing shit

Niggas forget where they came from and forget the squalid

That we can't forget the past.

Follow your heart you’ll make that fast