This is a song about "Fruit sticck"

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

Wicked roots, the infant tree, strange fruit, the tension,

Strange fruit, that's the truth, i spit it in the booth,

We in control, the people know i speak the truth

While i got my hand on the tec, wave

If you got up stage and fruit meets ya face,

Wear my hat to the back, i'm in a different kind of mood

These lyrics that i spit out to these rappers are forbidden fruit,

Are growing wild weeds and vines, strange fruit abundantly,

You can never tell me that i'm not hungry

Low hanging fruit that was me

Who trill as me, roll two of tree

Words sharp like a jerry rice curl route

Track 2.) golden child (forbidden fruit)

Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she

But you try craming a different fruit from the same tree