This is a song about "Leg day"

Should i say the fake leg made out of wood

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

Watch the gore spread more and more, till the blood runs red down ya left leg

Is not far from white girls with big bread

My friend lost his leg,army are dead

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

Got that strap on my hip like a leg brace

Gon feast on a leg of freshly shot veal

Respect still there but ya boy's right here

See, mel made a couple milli sellin’ jesus passion

Target spreading, aren't you heading arm and leg in