This is a song about "Good feel to be a raper"

Smoking chronic to feel them good vibes,

For being jealous of a brother when he rides

Need size to be wise i'm real so i feel

And still a nigga made it here

Growen up to be a drug doing , no good for nothing , young age

And nowadays things changeeveryone's ashamed of the youth cause the truth look, strange

Who ever parties should be proud damn it's good to be home

Proud of it all defensive fuck i'm rocking alone

Be a good hand-clapper and go fetch me my crackers,

Guns everywhere, like the car came with hammers

Good think i can spit or i'd be sinking to a life of poverty

They hating, patrolling and trying to catch me riding dirty

To be good at rap, you need no limits

The youngest of my mother kids