This is a song about "American street dance"

Really i was the one trying to dance

Left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks

All those shitty love stories and my most hated was dance.

Rocking black and gold stocking caps and fleur-de-lis shockey hats

I live in the american south with the racial divide,

Even my critics are saying a nigga name right

Go to hell, i mean that, burn you like green backs

In a strip club getting a lap dance

When timbo is in the party, everybody put up they hands

I'm the motherfucking direct devil so are u ready to dance,

Grew up poor, still poor but by american standards

We gotta get back to what really matters

Others dance with each others other,

You know...you know who you are

Yea we hard on the street

I don't know defeat