This is a song about "Coming home"

Money ain't a thing

Tell them niggas we coming

Hit towns with coke, a .45 blue as chrome

Simple bar spitting then going home

I'm on the run, keep running

You won’t see it coming

East with biggie and group home

Mami told me son, hold your own

And i'ma call it my home

Please sugar don't come alone

Now and days you finish up work and you coming home alone, you pack a bowl

I feel like i'm falling, yeah falling into a black hole, that's darker than black coal

And don't you bring your camera phone

They're telling you too go home

Look, i know you not gay or nothing

I dont see no people coming