This is a song about "The package"

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Organized crime, i kill your boss

I split the blunt and rolled the fat one up deadly -- babylon beware

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

Because cancer has the answer to every offensive and defensive punch

Or i'll challenge myself: i manage to give you brain damage and put you in a gray package

I pop one, you pop one

The bigger the the fun

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

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

Saw the bombs on the news

My time with their half-witted reviews

The water from the past is the same water in the present

My mother raised me a single parent so it's apparent

My mama smoked so god damn much

Licking picking and ticking the package,