This is a song about "Henry the 8th"

Yea, obie tricepour out a lil' liquor nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Reminisce the times and the laughter

Got your whore doing shit that's uncalled for

Where the ball meets the wall

I don’t do nothing but ball

In the heat of the summer,

And none drum, iller than ninth wonder

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

They say the money talks and bullshit walks

The realist in the game

It’s not a game, hold your dame

Do the math, get the sum

Flyer than the rest of them

As i take you through a ghetto nigga's lullaby

A white lie through a struggle to a 8th try