This is a song about "Building homes"

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

Yaknowhati'msayin? you need to be on first class

Flapjack, ooh he bring

Yung-n-reckless in the building

Police be barging into homes but that's rude

Life's lemons is bitter, i need another fruit

Enter the building through the window

Black 3 cement, sag jean sitting - low

Out the homes lickety split *poof* like smoke

You pay your favorite stripper car note

I'll put you in your place, and i don't even sell homes

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Because now a nigga hot enough to fuck with one of satan' hoes

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

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

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