This is a song about "Bloods and crips"

And you ask twitter why you getting fake guys

Slobs on floor, now da crips on the rise

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

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

The jiggas and the tips

Hes got on some crips kicks

Make a drive by send them fuckin bloods dying

Abroad flying and bar buying from broad writing

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

It's so hard for civilians, thank god you with a boss

Bloods rushin and gushin from between your eyes

Living in a gangsta’s paradise

So check the verse miss. i ain't say i'm perfect

Ur tracks mashed and done for and bloods spilled."

Hit and miss these fake crips

Fuck, clean up on aisle six