This is a song about "Wood grain"

Swallow the cinnamon, i'mma scribble this sin and shit

Nothing remains, no matter what insane strain, grain it

We gotta find that grain, before he gets away

I plan on getting back *censored* the worst way

Grain grippin’ on the wheel

Nah … i ain’t deaf in my ear

The little engine that could, this little nigga is good

So i can stab his face and nut on his grave like mourning wood

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

If a wood chuck could chuck wood

And i don't cook much but i'm tough with that phone book

Graspin at her hair givin holly all the wood

I'm droppin' fire, only things they're dropping's hot wood,

But i'm in the bible like moses, read the damn book

Y'all know that nigga in the movies

I ask would/wood you please leave,