This is a song about "Mikey the dispatcher"

Temperatures drop; see it's cool to shoot a nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

You gotta pay attention in order to pay dues

You are always there when i slip up i just don't care never really learned

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

That's me spitting this fucking garbage toss

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

The good comes with the bad, the bad with the ugly

Nigga, rap, you fuckin' suck probably

Call me cocky i love it, baby father a sucker

Put the lotion on the skin, in the acid, in the gutter,

Thinkin of the the dreams

Malcolm x, by any means