This is a song about "Pissing in coca cola"

I'll put you in a coma shoot you in yoga you drink dicks like cola...

I can eradicate a village if you give me a beat, huh

Mad, just like max, you must be glad you had a patch/

You don't really wanna get into a pissing match

Be it spoken sugarcoated or zero coca coke, you're still just livin', dreaded fodder

Jealousy inside, make'em wish i diedoh my lord, tell me what i'm livin' for

Chips ahoy, vanilla cola, sipping syrup slow

At times i look in the mirror to boost my fucking ego

You'll be pissing blood from your wrists

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

Your bitch is a hood bitch you can find up in these streets

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

I like a down-lookin, all for it, flower bomb

Going home, down the yellow road that gilly pissing on

Mic defibrillator give you haters heart attacks in advance

And the ball sacs are pissing on their parent's epitaphs