This is a song about "Gangs and living in the hood"

And i can write a hook fast

Catch me in the hood, gucci sky mask

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

These are al the symptoms of growing up in tha hood.

So i gotta get my point across like a snitch would

Just cause im not shootin, smoking, or crippin in the hood

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good

Sometimes i would sneak out in the night with my black hood

Been bad all my life, i was raised in the hood

Lookin back in my yearbook, all the years took

Bandana p, blow thirds, the 4 take you on all fours

Maybe i'm on acid, living in the 'hood with poorest whores,

You say the words that can get me back in focuswhen i was sick as a little kid

And i'm rhymin' up about all of this shit up in the 'hood 'cuz i'm a street poet,