This is a song about "The 60s"

We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between

All my niggas is winning, shout out to charlie sheen

Organized crime, i kill your boss

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

Big shit popping, i'm the man

Still the man with the pan

And i be good til the fat woman sing a note

Here's the answer and the antidote:

The water from the past is the same water in the present

Without a doubt, a sure-fire way to get your mother fucked

You're in the presence of a player, i'd rather be ya nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

I tell em "honey, i no cher" i'm so sunny

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