This is a song about "Being a 12 year old and grew up with your parents arguing"

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

It's a ribbity rambully, be bob drop from a 3 year old

Me and kweli come together like two pieces of metal

I hear plato, and socrates, arguing with aristotle,

12 year old books going through your fuckin temple

Money’s on the mental, my efforts monumental

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

It's to all those kids who grew up with nothing, dry your tears,

And copy what's hot until that goes cold

Yet to be moving like a 2 year old

With grenades your flow is old school my flow is up to date, like a slut.

Family getting bread, well he about to get his loaf cut

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

May i ask that you cut the wack shit? sound like a 12 year old,