This is a song about "Grinding out in the streets"

Just plain pat visions with some sick aim

Cause the streets leave you in pain

But out in the streets, i aint no bitch

Lying to yourself, all over an image

Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats

It's hard to find good honest work that pays in the streets,

I glanced seeing some haters in the streets

Kush, baby mama-less; yeah no seeds

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

Just trying to link this music and its roots in the streets,

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

Believed your own hype ya the hardest bitch in the streets

Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats

Not a whack job that packs crack rocks in the streets

Indeed, the flow raw just the same as my levi jeans

Forget these troubles, war raging in the streets