This is a song about "Fuck the crips"

Slobs on floor, now da crips on the rise

An ipod mind to you walkman guys

Life should be like this, no bloods or crips, just a good night kiss,

Malignant, belligerent, believe me i'm living this

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

That's not my hustle if i did i probably, would've made empty them clips from the crips

"what the fuck? this is fucking sick, bitch, fuck you,"

Win or losered or bluewe must all stay true

I can hear the bells ringing off the nice dream truck

Because the government just does'nt give a fuck

All green nigga pick six

Hes got on some crips kicks

Fuck the dea and fuck the feds

I'm on deck i'm up next

And i'mma keep ya fresh

Fuck, fuck-fuck, can't take the stress