This is a song about "Trade unions are kool"

Skies are black, clouds are red

My voice make her wet

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

Time to get paid, blow up like the world trade

My unions really into that, flowing with the hammers out

And when they try to get parental and start talkin' loud

I wouldn't trade you for the world, you're all that i need.

Long as i can feel my heart tap like happy feet

They trade semen as their holes fill up by the liter

I can do that to a nigga and make a pool on her

This is my sixth crusade, handing out hand grenades on every single slave trade,

But his deferred, and blurred and changed in shapeit's fate, it wasn't my choice to make

Of that trade off, my dicks a plane bout to take off

But it's still cool just to dream man because