This is a song about "The wirld"

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

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

From the gutter to the roof

When they hear me rocking the groove

Ever since then i had no job

Here's the answer and the antidote:

It’s me and my nigga there until i’m a millionaire

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

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,

I know i'm not the only bastard in america

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Still the man with the pan

Well goddamn, now i be the man