This is a song about "Fighting with my father"

Brought this shit to fruition, took my niggas to vegas

Infectious like my rhymes, i'm fighting crime, and picking wages

So im like fuck it, im out get on your head

It was my father, with his hands wrapped around her neck.

Account overdraft what i got this debit for

I rathered you than my father or mother

With plans to reach the end even if i had to star slow

It ain't with me you're fighting with but my verbal skill's shadow,

Think they tight, with their fancy clothes and fighting words

I live the street life, ya heard? guns, money and birds

Jill scott on my ipod, as my head rests

My father say we can only help ourselves

Could've worked with my father but he wasn't around

Ride him all around, when he hits the ground

Fighting off syncope with a life's regrets under the microscope

I am not no homophobe, good thing i don't read the post