This is a song about "Home"

Smoke one stack straight to my dome

I never had a place to call home

Enough heat , to melt down your fucking home

Whenever i'm through, you already on the phone

U never being home,

Mami told me son, hold your own

Little latasha sho' grown

East with biggie and group home

Full blast turn up the speakers at home

Blowing head back, bottles by the zone

Put my number in your phone

Sherlock holmes, no shit, just go home

Of rotten mold inside your noggins cottage home

You cowardly-hearted, you couldn't make it on your own

Drink whatever's left, kill the pussy, tombstone

Gasping for phones, but ain't nobody even home