This is a song about "The huns are dead"

Honey brown, caramel, coffee brown, chocolate

We are the dead, ain't no denying it

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

I spit up on the block like a glock and the rest are dead,

Although thought that we would grow

Are we living or dead bro

Y’all millhouse, blew y’all head

Like night of the living dead

I ain't worried bout shitbitch i'm the shit

We are the dead, ain't no denying it

So if i do call it's just a check

Killin the competition, leaving it dead