This is a song about "Getting a job"

While i got my hand on the tec, wave

Give him a job to lace you up and a slow pace

Why i'm living keep a pistol just to keep you alive

How did all them bastards get a good job, good life,

And you have a job choppin' up wood!

And when the smoke clears don’t you dare ask who could

When are ya gonna get ya self a job,

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop

We the squad, young folarin, out that maybach mob

I watched my ma whip up work fukk a havin a job

Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the bible

Then began a search for a job of which i was able,

But radio ain't trying to follow suit

Got a job i took the safer route

I just need a job where i barely gotta speak

Chrome lips on the forgi's damn near swallowing the street