This is a song about "Guns drugs money depression"

Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round

Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)

You're uncool like my mother kin

That the world's in great depression

If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns

I'm murdering instrumentals cause i rap with the conscience

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

And he was married to my grandmother for money n drugs

Everybody seems to misread every sentence

If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns

Still no drugs, guns, knives or lives lost.

All you need is your passport

Just cause you change what you pitching, don’t make the difference

Fuck rappin' about smokin' drugs, they hurtin' your lungs, tons, of guns.

Down in miami, with a super ho team

Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine