This is a song about "Grain"

Yeah two times on a sunday what a lil brotha gotta em goin one way

Sickle was used to cut out grain, tied into bundles and then carried away.

My issue isn't televised and you ain't gotta tell the wise

Want every single thing thats nice, so fuck your single grain of rice

And that you fly with the flock and that you stick to the grain

Enough to drive a man insane, a woman insane

Notice everything it wasn't. realizing why it shouldn't ever be again

Repetitive competitive grain girding lanes, lined in arrays, lane to lane,

Time after time, again and again

But you've seemed to maintained every grain,

Bury your thoughts, take his head fuck him have at him

A grain of sand on the beach, a droplet in the ocean.

We gotta find that grain, before he gets away

And i got 'em every day, every day

Nah … i ain’t deaf in my ear

Grain grippin’ on the wheel