This is a song about "Building homes"

Someone gotta be telling someone somebody is tripping

Was just such a fufilling feeling, we stuck in the building

Without choice or hope to voice our own noiseless mope of far away homes

And i got a foot fetish, so i probably have sex with your toes

I take tokes while you little niggas take notes

I remember shotguns and modest working class homes,

That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last

I'm building my name up, not building up cash

Fuck you little comfortable middle class dual-earner homes,

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

I do this shit for ghettoes and those 'hoods and kids from broken homes,

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

Yung-n-reckless in the building

Flapjack, ooh he bring

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

Spit fishscale mix it up in rental homes