This is a song about "The war on terrorism"

The final war of the whack and sick

Either that or they 4:4, some call them fantastic

You ain't gotta screw up your face in front of the kids

Go to war with the mormons, take a bath with the catholics

9/11 terrorism the terrorist is them, as shit starts to get worse n more lies start to resurface

Tryin to torture em to tell, i'm gettin mailbut ain't nobody sayin much, the same old nuts

To make a peaceful world we need to end the war on the streets,

On award tour, on excursions, i'm a virgin of swap meets

Torn apart, taken by storm, blow the war horn/

Make a cold heart broad whole inner parts warm

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

Rich hypocrites permit war on foreign lands

A perpendicular, angle of the clout war

Yea this is like a penthouse, served at the top floor

I was watching, remote pleaseniggas want what they can't have

And i'll declare lyrical war, on this racist dumbass.