This is a song about "The preamble"

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

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

Throw him off the banister, shoot him on camera

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

If they could cut out all the busting

The flooding of the nothing

Got the passion for the music

Living out of a homeless shit

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

I let you know you dealing with dogs

Dial the humidifier, arrange the amplifier/

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

You're that secret place

The streetz is aint the safe