This is a song about "Blood and crips"

But let me be 100, see monogamy's redundant

Thinking our own flesh and blood is innocent/

Blood stainin black and white tops

Fuckin' up my gold pots

Thinking our own flesh and blood is innocent/

I don’t really mess with the feds, i’m a militant

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Not a nigger, not a blood, never been witht the crips,

On a battlefield of blood and distaste,

I'm using my tooth bait to get that bitches teeth paste

Hit and miss these fake crips

And the v12, that's on various trips

You're our own flesh and blood/

About disaster in the world and