This is a song about "Bud not buddy book"

I want to write a book

Aye, hold your head homie, look

Number nine, your buddy carl's diggin my lines

And i'm on you rapper's ass like brake lights

Always wanted a piece of the pie, now it’s sliced right

Only strapped when the backpack got bud inside

10 chains, hustle hard: ace hood

My life’s an open book

And they can't see the tragedy

You were my best buddy

Now hire about street schemes, and getting blood money

Friends get jealous, catch a body on every buddy

I go to bed reading my book

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good