This is a song about "The philadelphia eagles"

All my shit designeri fucked your bitch in versace, nigga

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

I put this j in your face get a whiff of this michael

Green papers with eagles from a tray that's illegal

Gods words all cursed like crackshai-tan's way of gettin us back

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

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

The more battles the better the flows

X's and o's, you must be the rose

Pray for peace with the babies, they a beast in the summer

Put the lotion on the skin, in the acid, in the gutter,

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

You would think that i had a match for a tooth

Pay dues like a hair salon

The weed into the bong