This is a song about "The new orleans saints"

New orleans, swag, wild style, foul child, suckers,

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

New orleans southern baptists, gutter trash whites,

This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines

The marathon of this game always changes in pace

Y’all ain’t the praising saints with the perfect angel’s face,

You wasn't fin' to dress all crazy no more and

New is new, don't compare to the precedent/

Wale, real nigga, where the totem, blowin' bomb haze

Y’all ain’t the praising saints with the perfect angel’s face,

Insane, crazy, the only girl that can make time then make me stop

New orleans, yeah, from the ‘burbs all the way to the hot block,

I grew up in new orleans, ball players and rhyme stars,

I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box

With my lost saints. i love thee with the breath,

They at the same spot they making no progress