This is a song about "The grapist"

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

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Girls fast how jamaicans run

The bigger the the fun

Here's the answer and the antidote:

And i be good til the fat woman sing a note

I think found where your mind was

Where the fuck the chorus

Gotta go, let her leave

Thinkin of the the dreams

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Yeahehehehe nigga, we be the ballin player-ass nigga

I got a dollar and a dream, real niggas on my team

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