This is a song about "Be mine and not his"

Swallow the cinnamon, i'mma scribble this sin and shit

Hov's known for his art when is it time for mine to be tested,

And now these hoes are on my line

And just in time your head is mine

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

And be a man on who his family can rely

Quick to holla at a hoochie with the same line

Even if it was only once, you got to be mine

And i should not be woken

So now she picks up the gun

Die, but that better not be from suicide, he said looking down at his puzzled bother

Jealousy inside, make'em wish i diedoh my lord, tell me what i'm livin' for

Feeling like it’s ramadan and i just need a bite quick

I choose that not mine, sadistic like another crime statistic

Plus 11-99 in his muthafuckin' chest

And we may not be perfect