This is a song about "Harvest"

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

Preparing for the harvest. your body's carcass,

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

If you feel it, it must be real just

Can't contest so he go leave to harvest

But don't expect a ring if you committed to the hustle

I harvest like cannibal, i've turned into animal

And there's little to be glad for

Chop down your words,harvest you like reaper

So i'mma talk about a little bit of that

Pain you'll harvest, cause you're the artist's new target

Plant, grow, harvest from june to may

I swear i'm coming back one day

Plant, grow, harvest from june to may

But i dont never play