This is a song about "Nick cotton"

That's flyer than a wrestler, you don't want to mess with

Did you try and sniff some cotton fall off a cliff

Tell em their ambitions then we need some more of them

Man i dread that through the dark nights like crimes of soft cotton

Waitin' in the fields to pick the cotton, sick and rotten nations,

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips

Because there ain't no coming back from that

A 30 rack, nick of grass, an acid tab

Flow retarded, i need to wipe the slob off of every bar

Started from the cotton field but i made it pretty far.

Still ain't got no ice, only cotton sweaters.

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

Sorry i'm so demanding, sick of dancing back to mansion and

When ever i think of you michael i allways fucking think "cotton bud"!

Out in the cotton gin

With a little bit of passion