This is a song about "Clayton homes"

Giving excuses like shit i thought i was alone or i thought it was my homes

Old school , og , chicano sound/ / cruzin to the 602 , holdin it down bird city knows

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

I'm supposed to flow and so i'm dope, i rap for broken homes,

And walk through shotgun homes filled with bullet holes,

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

I'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares i caught, go to sleep

From ghettoes and broken homes, we're roses grown from concrete,

I'll probably re-visit those old shotgun homes and trailer parks,

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

Gettin' dumb and dumber, you a brute, homes?

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

And tony jr. said i'm the hope

Out the homes lickety split *poof* like smoke

This is for the kids who live in ghettoes and their broken homes,

I be staying at the roosevelt more than marilyn goes