This is a song about "The corps"

The flow cold as a shoulder of a gold diggin hoes

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

Yessir... momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair

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

Put the lotion on the skin, in the acid, in the gutter,

Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and yc like my brother

I give bitches dick and leave

Thinkin of the the dreams

Duck duck, say goose

Saw the bombs on the news

The more battles the better the flows

Best believe i'm leaving with more of those

Coroners comfort your mama

I bring the heat like the

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,