This is a song about "Brooklyn nets"

East side till i die, brooklyn is my residence/

I put you over my money, all of my nice kicks

Its was a cold night in brooklyn when i first set out

Don't pay for that, double-mg nigga brag about

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

No kidd in they lack balls to score; they need to work with nets!

A story too familiar for too many brooklyn residents

So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love

I won't give it to you just like your girl even that bitch wants to make me hurl,

If i hold onto the shredded threads, it will mold into non-captured nets, girl

Santa loves some but in brooklyn, he dodged us.

The critics are calling me conscious

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

You got me in a trance, please take off your pants