This is a song about "A chiled hood that was bad and fake friends"

Been bad all my life, i was raised in the hood

Whole lotta money, big tip i would

At that moment was an epiphany and had a bad feeling so i started racing

These young niggas come outta nowhere taking out the heart of that shit, know what i'm saying

Then hanging with fake friends and having laughs

We getting money, you can face the facts

God damn i'm starvin' and i just ate

And i dont have much friends cuz some could be fake

Thought we’d be together ’till the end

And now i see that you were just a fake friend

Snapple fact: you rather wack

Man that was fuckin bad

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

And me my momma was always in a very bad mood

And it's time to make a real native separation from the fake friends

Cause i'll be honest: i ain't tryna be a victim of the projects