This is a song about "The catigorical imperative"

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

They disregard me, i guess they all got egos

Wayne told me that and that's just how it goes

The more battles the better the flows

How can i convey this

Metal chair is imperative

And i can't do it anymore, i'm tired of always not being first

Be the lion of the zoo be the glue of the bottle be the air of the world,

If you was, i would climb every other stair, i gotta stare

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

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

You be chickens like smokey tripping off angel dust

I bring the heat like the

You're fucking with me, nigga