This is a song about "Gangsters mon"

If i dont bag i’ll be thinking bout your ass

There was rappers rapping about gangsters and their pasts

Office full gangsters, prankster never know the span

Put burners in the hands, of the black man

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

Little white gangsters, i'd call that phase ironic,

Growin out my dreads, i'm bob marley mon

Come on girl, close your eyes pretend that your home

Gangsters walkin' 'round in suits, i bring out the thug in them,

Everybody know me like the contra code for extra men

The golf wang hooligans, is fucking up the school again

Gangsters walkin' 'round in suits, i bring out the thug in them,

Almost lost my life to the industry

Like mitt, rom-ney, with his fuck-ing dumb, mon-ey.

Housing projects, middle class gangsters, aim and spark it,

Now say fuck them other bitches them hoes ain't shit