This is a song about "Crime and punishment"

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

Wolf gang pete and gon' live, running outta time

When black males are stereotyped and arrested for crime,

Went and got two maseratis at the same damn time

We're once again in the cycle of poverty and crime,

But it’s hard to believe with all this poverty and crime,

So if you open up your heart i’ll give you mine

Think of a crime, and it probably was my fault

Dirty crack pipes lit, bullshit to stop, halt

In itself it brought wealth through crime and tough living

Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king

Doubt my words and you'll see how a rhyme will turn into a crime.

I ain't sayin' namesthey say the tape was really mine

As other bullies chimed in and gave me more punishment.

While i fill you up with semen from the wolf gang team and