This is a song about "Born to die rich"

But in a way it's alright cause we're born to die

Fresh to death, when i step, you can hear momma's cry

When i'm low, she take me high

You are about to die!

Plan to get rich is going without a hitch,

That wasn't bullets, that was copies of bastard, you bitch

No more will we cry

Why do people have to die

Don't rest your case as a gangsta because you wrestled your bitch

Aint trying to front its the smoke that's mad me rich

Making g's was my missionmoving enough of this shit to get my mama out the kitchen and

To emancipate to participate born new candidate born president no longer a resident

'cuz many of those black youth are born to die just after birth,

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve

Don't even know the rules but yet y'all tryin' to play the game

Just why the fuck there's rich people when others struggle to maintain