This is a song about "Dreams of happiness"

But now i'm pointin the finger at police

Through fiends and thieves dreams of shit grown on money trees,

Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats

Its differs, with options, killing of his dreams

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

Dreams of giant mansions, diamonds chains, 8 or 9 cars,

Just fresh out of the ashes it's a detroit fucking classic from when

Thats how possibilities of dreams comin' true stay of out them

But the postwar margin of happiness is less than the rate of adoption

And i got a girlfriend so i'm a keep lying until the verse end, fin

I wanted happiness but happiness never came

Thoughts, cause you're an outsider tryna get in brain

Chanel slippers on my bitches like you go love

Since i was a child, i had dreams of

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

My dreams of being something were put on hold.