This is a song about "Killah the dopedealer"

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Pass the henn and that ice, i'm on a track with 'pac nigga

With foreign names, valet the range

I'm just trapped in this killah cage

And i can't do it anymore, i'm tired of always not being first

Be the lion of the zoo be the glue of the bottle be the air of the world,

Thinkin of the the dreams

Malcolm x, by any means

Niggas couldn't fill my shoes

From the gutter to the roof

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

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

Young black male, crack sales got me three strikes

Endless the days, forever the nights,