This is a song about "Being poor making money guns gangs and losing family"

Hustle for money and making livings

She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits

Not caring for lives, only profit and guns

And god blessed me with a lot of patience

Get ya' cake right, every chicken wanna slice

You see my family wasn't poor, we had enough to live,

‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,

How i'm like bobby deniro, joe pesc and them cats

Go to college, get a job, marry, have a kid

Cashing checks, making money, rinse and repeat is all i did

Meanwhile the family losing pieces,

Album: smoothsong: playa young thugs

Compared to "them" you're making baby money

I'm a g, and this is something you can't see

Theft of a man's chest it's like gangs test and exams

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks