This is a song about "The curch"

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

So superb but how am i eating your bars if this rap is getting you served

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

Or shift keys or it i placement cause

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

Niggas mostly assume, niggas make up they news

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

I split the blunt and rolled the fat one up deadly -- babylon beware

Temperatures drop; see it's cool to shoot a nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

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

Best stay away when the door closed, i show up with four hoes

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

Ay, i got a dollar and a dream, real niggas on my team

Coroners comfort your mama

I bring the heat like the