This is a song about "Beverly hills"

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

And the red sun sinks at least into the hills of gold,

So here i am at the store for some chips

For a property in hollywood hills

And the red sun sinks at last into the hills of gold,

Turn it upside down and open your legs if you're real cold

Aint no hills that can stop us from me caring still

It's terminally, permanently, seriously ill

Think you're fresh? talk to will smith. i've rocked these hills since

Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence

And you nervous cause ya ass probably feel different

And don't stop consider why these hills are withered and

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

I’m picturing that body like a camera phone would

Nobody gave a fuck and moved over the hills

Up all night with college hoes, edibles and bong hits