This is a song about "Homies old hoes"

Im killing niggahz and they hoes

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

Keep it trill for the hoes

"listen to the track bitch!" echoes

I was born to do the damn thing

Bullets flying, fake homies lying

Now them broads gon' follow

Homies that i don't yet know,

And my old hoes are mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings,

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings

Tryin to get a motherfucker to telland couldn't nobody diss my nigga

All these 12 year old bros turning into hoes, its so bad i feel like calling the

It's all she knows

We out here chasin hoes

Homies could get they dividends

I think you and your friends