This is a song about "Hood people dying young in the streets pain anger lost brothers"

Better than your bitch would

I don't live in the hood

Cops won't look in the streets,

When you're reachin' your dreams

I'm going off the top of the brain

If you from the streets i feel your pain

For the people at least in the streets thoughts of peace,

Crazed raised off hennesey, tell me will my enemies

I drive that all around

Tossed n' lost in the lost and found.

But screw the fake player-haters, their pain, anger, and rage,

I grabbed the ak, my homie took the 12 gauge

Whenever i'm through, you already on the phone

I was so young, raised in the streets of fort smith, homegrown

Mixed with pain, anger, and hateful rage, the essence of youth,

Pathological liars even know i'm the truth