This is a song about "Garden international school"

Rotting in a graveyard garden, six feet deep in your wooden coffin

Mr. i-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you what they callin' him

In the garden guarding my hoes

Here they keep a rachet close

Yeah i know a city that's surrounded by a beautiful beach

She's your garden peach, you're her guard indeed, gonna charge, besiege

Cause it doesn't seem really as simple

To my makers international

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

To pay for the food in his garden its almost time for harvest its a combination of toxins

Growing up to be a president but now im a resident of the garden state

Now its 98 on ur pussy mate!,fck ya 2 shots i just shot u 2 hate!,

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

Race is international my father isn't actual

The pinnacle, used to get ridiculed in school

So like i said before don't act a fool