This is a song about "Indian hill boys"

Like a snow ball running down a hill

Get my fill on with this grandmother named jill

Slice your neck until your face turn indian red,

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

Aw shit, no, that was eminem and cyprus hill

Mass appeal,and this bag i hit got me alaskan chill

Simply out of this world by choice

Bumping heavy d and the boys

No blunts, lil' bro wan' roll up joints

I think she's probably done with boys

For real, a nigga ill

I'm a climber, my wish the hill