This is a song about "Deja vu about my homies dying"

Play you, for what? you gonna play yourself

To you it was about wealth and your dying health

Homies dying like this is fucking war times

Young black male, crack sales got me three strikes

Money in a bag, stones be yellow as a cat

Or knowing that my homies got my back

Cause in the end girl you’re gonna want another round, another round

Yo i rap for brothers dying in the streets while most rappers talk about

Never mind the rumors baby this is me and you

Promise i won't leave and come back, like deja vu.

Now me and my homies got the keys to the nation

I guess i'm leftwich cause i still get to win

Whip purple and yellow, hello

Call all my closes homies dr though

The sun gives light cause it is the window

My homies in the back screaming "b.i.n.g.o