This is a song about "Come home pretty bird"

Don't let me into my zone (i’m definitely in my zone)

And, i'm sad and alone praying and wishing for my nigga to come home

Dad said you never come home and visit him

Gucci & nike, that’s what i call an option

I spit that garden of game, look at the hoes on him

Come home later and find you dead from starvation.

But i be like for real, just pick up that phone

Matter fact, my connection's pretty weak at home

Too stoned to kill a bird/

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Must be part of some big plan to keep a brotha in tha state

They work to death, when they come home, you dont even have a plate

When they come back home, they know there's always more/

I'm understanding that bull like a matador

Fuck what you heard

Too stoned to kill a bird/