This is a song about "My staff"

Funeral staff n' tubas, cadavers packaged like tuna

Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh

Nas, he runs the whole staff, we count mad for seen bad

Give it to these broads,imake em soar back and all that

Is dc in the house, without a doubt

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

For thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me he walked along the

Tryin to get a motherfucker to telland couldn't nobody diss my nigga

Caught up and slipping for fearing a mcdonald’s position

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

These my rhymes and my story

I’m tryna be low key

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure

She got mad i leaned over, i'm nursing her