This is a song about "How soil is made"

So pass the baby oil

You have laid your footprint in the soil

And i'm man-genie, flyer than the rest of them

Canada is where we made it from

A casket is made, never was very bright,

If you something like paid you can fuck tonight

I'd hate to see the seeds she created, and so we wait

How every choice and every move made

To make sure that the match is made

Im still here but i can't skate

How you gon battle me wit a style dat i made up?

Who the fuck invited mr. i don't give a fuck

And now i only listen to this hip-hop shit

I gets money,aint it's funny how we made it!

Guess how big my dick is

Aight santana man...let's do this