This is a song about "Ground"

Without the sound of guns

The ground beneath me opens,

My self-respect i leave that, in the lost and found

The best part is the horror house, with zombies on the ground,

But i apologize for not walking you around

Perhaps i ran them accents into the ground

Then get out your seat and jump around

But it fits better in the ground.

Ain wrestling it rugged like chippins on the ground

I turn my music down so you won’t hear a sound

Out of the way, with the golden hat on the ground

Leaning off the actavis, passing blunts round and round

Theres blood all over the ground

No reason to be around

Mr.ronald mcdonald face-painted clown on the ground

She ain't ever trippin when a nigga ain't around