This is a song about "Death and love and sex and guns and weed and money and cars"

Po-po wanna pick his brain, ho's wanna give him brain

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,

Me and your mum had rough sex

Sweet, okay makes sense

Weed and rapping weed in jays

Henny in my cup don't need no chase

They talk to me saying all i should do is kill,have sex and smoke weed

My heart beatsechoes into the cold streetswhere nightmares and darkness begin to meet

So either you dont believe in a nigga dreams

You rap about selling weed and money schemes

Where the guns ain't an issue, and death is big

And she got the bomb, i'm talking tick tick

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

Looking for dangerously hot nigga's and safe sex

I'm on deck i'm up next

And in love with her, lets have sex