This is a song about "Hand washing"

Than blam, it accidentally blasts out from my hand

You wasn't fin' to dress all crazy no more and

When they give the grammy in my hand.

Cause even thugs get lonely, understand

What a mess! but we clean in the club

Washing these holy lands in their heathen blood,

They got me trapped

To get to hold your hand

Nah me and rap go hand in hand like jeckel and hyde,

Havoc on the track boi, grab it hold it tight

I understand i'm back by popular demand

I'm the reaper cuz have the sithe in my hand

And bijies like im out and

Got so much power in my hand

Slid across the floor and flew right into a washing machine

Be my little pill and just creep into my blood stream