This is a song about "Gangs drugs and money"

Lots of drugs and boos in his cup

Or any grand thefts, man i don't give a fuck

You bulemic, struggling niggas ain’t eating supper

And gangs with specific crews, brother against brother,

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

My daddy drank and my momma did drugs;

Amen, they say you only live once

This aint drug money, baby it's thug money and love money,

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Theft of a man's chest it's like gangs test and exams

From an african american stance

Money, drugs, and power rule the world,

Back like i never ever left in the first

Drivin' my impala and selling drugs

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts