This is a song about "War of words"

And let’s win this war from fighting battles to the break of dawn

You brought and chose, guess she moving on, yep, we do it wrong

Ravishing, rick rude of rappin you bastards

Your cerebellums emitting a tenth of my words

The final war of the whack and sick

Ambition is still very big

I'm the reason that your bitch is smoking weed now

It'll sound like the acronym for prisoner of war (pow)

And wonder why i ain't ever caught that feeling before

I've got to go and spit a lot of flow but bitch this isn't war,

They say my music knocks, so i hope it open every door

Or classic misdirection it's a collection of weapons of war

Imma just chuck in a couple of random words

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

Push you into an old lady bagging plastic

"don of war" what? it's more like the "don of suckin dick,