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

No coach bag if i go with that, snake skin tote that cobra clutch

And look at that shit now, the 'hood is all in a bunch,

And fake friends need some therapy.

A military mind mean money

This information is vital, look

I'm not black and i wasn't raised in a hood

A heart attack, son, cause a how bad that was."

Whole lot of cobras with dope like soap bars

Snapple fact: you rather wack

Man that was fuckin bad

If theres a time that in the hood

Buy a chick a new bag when she taste good

And now i see that you were just a fake friend

Outta town rapper, bitches love to hear my accent

Until he choked and didnt realized that this is my hood

But you niggas too weak, but just give me 2 weeks and i'm good