This is a song about "The economic consequences of the civil war in the south"

We getting money, you can face the facts

Back in the day the south showed no mercy for blacks

A perpendicular, angle of the clout war

And they sore on hatin' reality that i ignore

The final war of the whack and sick

Ain't nothing changed since the sadder day, dig

Homey used to be a player, now i coach fools

The holy war, the spiritual troops

Ima go until my arm's sore

The world is already full of war

Then the consequences, she best deal with it,

Called that bitch my quaterback, wild cat all that