This is a song about "Fourth of july"

See, there's a war going on and i'm the general

Defendants of a meddle, restless full of potential

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

That girl’s an alien and if i die before i wake

Wisest to be rappin since mac was in fourth grade.

Leave you stiff by the fourth round,high as fuck asking for more loud,

And me and them rappers we don’t share no common ground

And getting money is the song i sing

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

Looking at the sky, hoping a light would shine

Cause you can't even rap in the fourth grade band

Say she like my style but i talk too fast