This is a song about "Gangs and the hood"

Daddy was a kingpin, a couple milli buried

Dougie fresh up in the hood and he's bringing me my weed

And i don't cook much but i'm tough with that phone book

I'm not black and i wasn't raised in a hood

Third ward general, young cash money

I got the hood behind me

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

Bitch i can't let goi been strugglin' too long, thuggin' too longand niggas is stealing my shit

So i told her i got something you've been waiting for

And gangs with specific crews, brother against brother,

All my homies in this thang wish a nigga would

I rap for the children who don't wanna be in the hood,

It's pain in my eyes but these yves saints blind you to look

My suppressor on tight, and bitch im playing rob 'n' hood