This is a song about "Guns drugs money depression"

Enough oppression, leading to depression

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Still no drugs, guns, knives or lives lost.

Bomaye, killa cam, my lord

Suicide depression,

You're uncool like my mother kin

And i'm all out of money cause i bought drugs for some party,

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

Yep she's on x, i called that bitch speed burst

Money, drugs, and power rule the world,

They say that i never cease to amaze

I've met depression on numerous days

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

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