This is a song about "Dis s"

No fiction, mentally dis function,my mind talks why should i mention

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

Tints ain’t legal, i ain’t ordinary people

It’s sick and spiteful, 2pac’s twisted grim disciple

You know they bangin' in the car harder than 808's,

They at the same spot they making no progress

Driving my car to a foreign place

Cause dis iz ma turf, ma base

Not only do i enlighten but i provide a tan

Put in work make stacks of hunneds, gotta roll dis cash man/

I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb

Da inspiration to make dis song.

I do dis for my niggas and city

And i got a little big, keep it low key