This is a song about "Dead end gangsters"

Where they cherish gangsters and not teachers

Im end up dead and in a hearse,

Dependin' on how i feel, either the coupe or sedan

Office full gangsters, prankster never know the span

There lived a lil' boy who was misled

Believe me, i'm beyond dead

Ironin' you niggas now it's time to starch the shit

Little white gangsters, i'd call that phase ironic,

Niggas in the street scared

I've hit another dead end.

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

There was rappers rapping about gangsters and their pasts

You keep continuing your gonna end up dead,

That i just haven't came up with a name yet

I didn't take my fucking ritalin, this is a hype track

Damn, you rap shit, crying gangsters, the type of ass that