This is a song about "Hot sisters"

Step out on the block all the bitches they still in shock

In the kitchen whippin boy stupid hot

Peace be to my brothers and sisters

And this world's mine, but the womb is hers

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

On hot blocks, to pop rocks, hot shots for top spots,

Spit fire, lava. whatever cause it's hot.

Feeling lucky let me touch your spot

The choice can be no other

At bunker hill hot summer,

I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king

I visited your sisters and we had some intimate fucking

I'll teach you 'bout equity and real estate honey

So listen when the sisters whisper slightly audibly,

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

I knew there was brother, some sisters and a mom ‘n’ dad