This is a song about "Patrolling the mojave"

The more battles the better the flows

Body doze, who ? give em karate blows

Your a shell of a mani lost respect for you nigga

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

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

A single mother with a problem child, daddy free

Aroma, strong enough to bring ‘em outta coma

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

I done came too far to regard me as the regular

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

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

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