This is a song about "I love my kids and i don t hoe around"

See you gotta get high or die, cause even thugs cry

Boys don seen me. fly so high i need stop it hell is my

Your raps don"t even rhyme!

Welcome to organized crime

You don;t thin anymore

The shit that i spit is more

You can hear it in my lyrics

I try and respect kids

Nowadays usually it's his pockets

For christ's sake, i stabbed my wife and my two kids!

Lighter, and i could fuck around and let you meet my sparks

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

Of the vhs especially during sex baby

Hoe i'm dope and i hope you done heard of me

Angle these beats like a pentagon

Since i was killed by the don,