This is a song about "Wood grain"

Grain grippin’ on the wheel

I just wanna keep it real

Buy a chick a new bag when she taste good

Chopping my style down like spruce wood

Well, brenda's barely got a brain

Hold it down like lean and wood grain

The little engine that could, this little nigga is good

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

Adapt to being black, strapped and gang tats, look

And you have a job choppin' up wood!

Youve got a cock like a piece of rotton wood

Call levi's we can see about the home cook

Forgive me lord, it feels like i commit a sin a day

We gotta find that grain, before he gets away

Hide bodies in a wood shed

Lemonhead end up dead