This is a song about "Valley of death"

Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win

From the valley of oppression,

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs

I see colors of red, mothers n' brothers are plunging to death

What a sad sight, lookin’ at my gas light

A plate full of death with a side of fluoride

This rap shit til the death of libertines

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

I stare in your eyes in your final moments of death

Listen here, i ain't lookin for no tears

The freshness of my breath bring your death

I've conversed with the valley of death, and it tells me it's a test.

Keep her there, so nobody can wonder where her face went