This is a song about "The horde"

I bring the heat like the

Just a little nigga

The paper to the pen.

Bet i get like 8 of them

Your the boat without the paddle

This bag is from seattle

Take the exit, the nearest left

Hold my tears i tried my best

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Yea, obie tricepour out a lil' liquor nigga

Sort of remind you, why you don’t court no vagina

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

Traveling from star-port to star-port i get on board, and escape the horde.

Yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this record

To the voice of the oblivion,

Something wicked this way come