This is a song about "Sex money and murder"

You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes

Of you wannabes rapping bout thugs,drugs, and sex,

It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for

Racism, sexuality, religion and murder

A whore is someone who want money for sex

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

The ones talkin bout sex, money, && wrappers

I spit that garden of game, look at the hoes on him

Dealing in depression, murder and lyrical impregnation

I can't hold back, it's time to attack jack

And malcolm sex is shitting on the crap

Motherfuckin o.groll up in the club and shit, is that right

Money, murder, marijen bitch im on that crip tonight

Mixed feelings cause now all the chicks feeling him

And murder leaves no retribution