This is a song about "Hood shit"

Four cuban links on my neck, trap out the hood

Whole lotta money, big tip i would

Trapping with the hood rats

They just wanna dance

My suppressor on tight, and bitch im playing rob 'n' hood

Rappers claiming they sick, i heal niggas for good

And that’s a scary thing, i try to duck em good

Until he choked and didnt realized that this is my hood

To mcs that don't rhyme good

I'm chillin' in this hood

With so many others still stuck in the hood

Lookin back in my yearbook, all the years took

Ships that sail to distant places

Nigga i'm on that hood stuff

If theres a time that in the hood

And when the smoke clears don’t you dare ask who could