This is a song about "The xy theory"

Low end theory, beats, rhymes, and life, midnight marauders,

I refuse to be another being on this earth

Took me a while just to write those

The more battles the better the flows

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

You gotta pay attention in order to pay dues

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Best stay away when the door closed, i show up with four hoes

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

The bigger the the fun

I'm a son of gun

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

Had to get my utmost feeted sleep cause

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

And we better than all these mutha fuckas up in this era