This is a song about "Folks and hoes"

Islamics and those few broke folks who spoke ebonics,

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

I’ve seen these young folks sell their souls for fortune and fame,

Brings alotta joy buggati boy thats lane to lane

Grab your bulletproof vest niggacause its gonna be a long one

And all the folks crushed who wanna be beating the system,

And don't go around convincing folks your thesis is right

Hearing nikki giovanni on a late summer night

Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes

I could talk about diamonds and all my bitches and hoes,

Everything i wanted never seem so close

For all the killas and the 100 dollar hoes

80 holes in your shirt, there: your own jamaican clothes

'cuz i ain't from the ghetto, didn't grow up there, and that's real folks,

But she only fuck with boss niggas - lames, you outta luck

I'm sick and tired of folks tellin' me to open it up,