This is a song about "The stral"

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

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

Live my life through some film, man

Still the man with the pan

Cheated on light skin dominique when we was seventeen

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

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

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

A bunch of fucking wolves and rats having niggers the size of shaq

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

Always keep it up to date, that's why the hoes choose

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

Hate it when i leave

Thinkin of the the dreams

Where the fuck the chorus

They getting deals with thier weak buzz