This is a song about "The incas"

And we better than all these mutha fuckas up in this era

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Rub the wood and ima show em love

Where the fuck the chorus

Man i swear she's bad and she knows

The more battles the better the flows

Everyone who left me for nothing tell em to call back

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

Saw the bombs on the news

Its cold as shit in this booth

Temperatures drop; see it's cool to shoot a nigga

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

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there

High as shit, i’m in a booth

From the gutter to the roof