This is a song about "Bad homes"

Police be barging into homes but that's rude

And i'm the type of muhfucka that'll share you, shoot

I've switched and lived in eleven homes, not by choice, you ain't even know it,

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

To dual-earner comfortable households in suburban homes,

See baby lately seems my life been hell and heaven knows

Luxury life, results living bad

And goin' half on a motherfuckin' hundred sack

Pump, fake, jumpshot, ball hit the back

Times aren't always that bad

But we know all the same people so we got to speak

From ghettoes and broken homes, we're roses grown from concrete,

And sell out 'till we dig holes for homes like peter rabbit,

I'm trying to get you hot and wet you know jacuzzi that shit

To havin' good homes, never is my stomach growlin',

Scramble like randall if john randle was trynna get him