This is a song about "Brown man"

I shoot hollows at those whose souls are hollow and keep my livin room full of brown bottles

Cause lord knows, for years i triedand all the other people on my block hate your guts

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

Last time i checked a brown was getting the fattest checks

The face mob, kept it ghetto for the h town

Later on in his life he graduates from brown

Can't smile, take a picture, gotta frown

Then you say your sorry like chris brown

Coffee brown as the bosom i flew in on

Lip balm she's some nun bitch from st. john

That chris brown and rhianna line wasn't yours

Epic, they used to feed me detours

I better get my gown

It's just my soda mixed with brown