This is a song about "Cryin"

Have you with professional killas, chasing hits

The middle class suburban kids are cryin', and slittin' wrists,

A couple of haters looking, i’m knowing them niggas hot

Tupac is cryin' in his grave, i'm at a rave with a ton of sun block,

Pay homage to a god, bitch fall on your knees

And don't come cryin to me, when all your so-called friends "leave"

Y u cryin? "gimme back my back" no bitch its mine, i rap not for your souls

I'm cool with all these broads in here but i do not date lucaya hoes

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus

Meanwhile the nation's dehydrated, they cryin malice