This is a song about "High for this"

Letter to the ghetto, hold your head high

I'm stupid high but i still do this do or die,

Pick my enemies out the crowd, and motherfucker's die

And normally, i'd try to end this fucked shit on a high.

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

It's for the high crime rates for all that gang bang violence,

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

Why, why, this young little guy had to lose his mother back in junior high.

When trippin' high on acid, this is my relapse part two,

Aiming it at a pig, charlotte's web is going to miss you

I heard this plane talk, got his head held high

In the lambo looking like a fly

I'm high as fuck and i didn't call for all this

The look of no hope on my niggas' faces