This is a song about "The gladeders"

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

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

The flow cold as a shoulder of a gold diggin hoes

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

She wanna be grown

As the king upon the throne

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

We in control, the people know i speak the truth

The bigger the the fun

I'm caged up in state prison

Here's the answer and the antidote:

I was a black sheep, but now i'm just a goat

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

You're in the presence of a player, i'd rather be ya nigga

Saw the bombs on the news

Kill the jungle let the cats loose