This is a song about "The punisher"

Baby, you know who you are

Down the street to the car,

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

White coke, tan dope, black gun, trey deuce

Here's the answer and the antidote:

Ever since then i had no job

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Hell yeahwould you kill for me nigga?on my grandmother, nigga

Got a pocket full of cream, my moccasin's clean

We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between

In the coupe with the tec, it's the home of the brave

Put expressions in their music and create the face

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

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