This is a song about "Being from the hood"

I die being me,im fucking happy,see my hood see the king

Put that on everything these other bitches anything

Not generic from ny, la, the chi, what hood am i gon talk about?

I'll push this fucking pregnant clown into a hydrant stuck in the ground

Everybody judge you for being something, never can get free from the hate and violence

About to have another baby, like a rose from the concretegrowing within, blessed with twins

To mcs that don't rhyme good

Call the crib, same number same hood

And i'm not from the 'hood, so i never packed a piece,

Pressed in timeswe busted like bubbleswith the police

Keep it a good stack i eat cheese from hood rats

She said look ma, no hands and no darling i don't dance

I’m picturing that body like a camera phone would

I rap for the children who don't wanna be in the hood,