This is a song about "The fitness"

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

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Watch this, hey quik let me see them binoculars, nigga

You get fucked up, cause you don't know what fitness is about

And dusting off the porcelain and open when their cock is out

Play a song, invade a thong, my dick is havin' guts for lunch

My fitness is popeye ripping up a can of spinach

My raps got the stress eating mistress getting into fitness

So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love

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

I be staying at the roosevelt more than marilyn goes

So, with that, we need us a plan, respect

Take the exit, the nearest left

I should michael jordan these rappers

Fuck the haterz, fuck the doubters