This is a song about "The reanasance"

Fuck it we on the move, none of use tryna lose

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

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

Move like i’m walking with an open case

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

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

Make sure your fuckin' feelings end up up in a glad bag

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

And don't you bring your camera phone

As the king upon the throne

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Aroma, strong enough to bring ‘em outta coma

Here's the answer and the antidote:

It's ironic they call me a fresh breath no joke

Mr. cocaine muzik, i’m 100 proof

From the gutter to the roof