This is a song about "Hood dreams"

Malcolm x, by any means

Welcome to our dreams

A keen fiend with obscene dreams

Can barely walk the city streets

I got the hood behind me

Hey, must be the money

I rap supreme no need for dreams

As much as i wanna leave

I'm chillin' in this hood

To mcs that don't rhyme good

Its differs, with options, killing of his dreams

Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats

Spit selvage my nigga, it's in my jeans

I’m peeling wigs, killing pigs in my dreams