This is a song about "The reeve"

You're the servant, i'm the master.

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

To the rigors of the industry

Yes, i'm sure we could all agree

You're in the presence of a player, i'd rather be ya nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Your the boat without the paddle

As i light one for ill will

Fuck the haterz, fuck the doubters

The richest place on earth

Had to get my utmost feeted sleep cause

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

This the clash of the titans

We buy cars, y’all flip whips

Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest

Take the exit, the nearest left