This is a song about "Christian goods on"

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

The goods assures to fill neighborhoods with smoke from the backwoods

When you took my hand up so calm

Man it goes on and on

No more lingering smell of christian dior,

Sure runnin' like i'm heavy hardcore

Cold, my style making my nose run

I'll piss off any christian

I must be goin' out my mindlike i'm up against the worldthis guerilla team of mine

Workin' in the local blocks, sellin' goods n' sweets, for money for studio time//

She so christian, i went missin'

Ambition, pardon my ambition

While you fucking with mei'm a self-made millionaire!thug livin', out of prison

I choose to be different cause theres a million same souls that are christian

Quick masterly thieves purloining precious goods

So these bars not mine, nigga it's yours