This is a song about "2 homes"

Figure this out, the king of the south, i'm poppin' bones from shotgun homes,

At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes

I'll probably re-visit those old shotgun homes and trailer parks,

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

I do this shit for ghettoes and those 'hoods and kids from broken homes,

Best stay away when the door closed, i show up with four hoes

Police be barging into homes but that's rude

Words sharp like a jerry rice curl route

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

And walk through shotgun homes filled with bullet holes,

I'm supposed to flow and so i'm dope, i rap for broken homes,

The flow cold as a shoulder of a gold diggin hoes

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Who would forgive me even if i burnt down all their homes

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops

You cant even handle 2 bars