This is a song about "Brooklyn nets"

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

Cuz the way her eyes glance like they playing in my pants

I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her

Like the nets, if you're gonna get hot then you gotta start a fire

Amadou & mariam but still no chorus

Santa loves some but in brooklyn, he dodged us.

Black ghost, white driver, such an oreo, i'm thinking out loud

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

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense

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

East side till i die, brooklyn is my residence/

So here i am at the store for some chips

Who's next to release? we guillotine them

Live life to the fullest, travel to brooklyn/