This is a song about "The resurrection"

You're rap needs a resurrection and next election

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Bitch i got that fucking swag, you don't know my fucking dad

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

The realist in the game

All the bitches know my name

I'm a verbal resurrection, the source of apprehension

And i got a girlfriend so i'm a keep lying until the verse end, fin

Rub my back, then let me lay

The truth but thats the way

Meka scary, turn his white ass to a jim carrey twin

Where's your vest son? death's on the cassette slot, not resurrection

At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes

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

"contemplate", i wrote about her

The replacement of the word "mother"