This is a song about "Rap dudes"

Charring fools like barbecue food when i spar with dudes,

Honest, sincere, they seersuckers, lying in suits

Giving up, is what these dudes outta do

And if i do go you better come through

Me and justin back and forth though we're different dudes,

So you can ask black thought if i know my roots

Making dudes look like clowns in comparison.

Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun

Then pass the bong (to who?) oh my crude dudes

I go to war, old timbs, battered boots

Annoyed with you rapping dudes

And my weed man should just sell flutes

And it ain't news that my brews enthuse dudes who abuse booze

I make my old bitch buy me all the latest shoes