This is a song about "Good mates"

My so called mates all turned to snakes

And no longing for dates

From hollywood to the hood

And we know that ain't no good

We was loonie i suppose, you could

No forgive him for your own good

"no malcolm, you're just too damn good"

Adapt to being black, strapped and gang tats, look

Is probably filled with some other niggas numbers

And all they wanna do is be with me, even my mates girls

Thick legs, big ole jugs legs stick like rims on the truck

Good morning, good raps, good morrow, good luck

These daysit's an all out rat raceand look at meee just caught another cat case

I would ask who's frank she would say one of my new crew mates with a new face

Aye, hold your head homie, look

Allow me to explain. i'm back for good