This is a song about "Fettes kind"

To me girl your one of a kind,

Fine young man with an old man mind

Said i'll return but i gotta fight the fate's arrived

I never said that my words would ever be kind

I'm not usually that kind of individual.

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

Got an independent business mind

And, i aint talking bout the paper kind

You're kind of bright though

Scab, fix up look shop joe

They provokin' suicide but as soon as signed

Some suggestions of the subtextual kind

Lord, you're so pretty, lying in my arms

So many kind words few kind hearts

A straight thug motherfucker who ain't scared to bust

Your kind is dying, it's time to adjust