This is a song about "The pitsburg stealers"

Obie trice, pour out a lil' liquor nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

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

At least i'd be stable, yeah, slightly less popular

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

You gotta pay attention in order to pay dues

You're fucking with me, nigga

I bring the heat like the

Endless the days, forever the nights,

I'm standing on the field full of land mines

Mr. cocaine muzik, i’m 100 proof

From the gutter to the roof

Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back

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

It's the wolf gang, wolf gang

Still the man with the pan