This is a song about "Night of misfits"

Last night a couple of lovers tossed each other of a bridge

And you can tell by the chiseled horns on my forehead bitch

Lost of all words, forgetting its night,

Niggas talk murder, but they ain't gon ride

I used to dream of you all day and night

Killa never let the drama slide

You tryin hard to maintain, then go head

Like night of the living dead

That he felt when he dealt with the physiological phase

They call me the god of night and the king of days

Rerunning through the events of this fine night

It's a pimp in my ride, no need to pimp the ride

Even in the dead of night, my niggas lurk

Keep that tucked ‘fore somebody get hurt

The art of peer pressure manifests itself in me all night

Easy baby my thing tight, but that lotus flower just ain't right