This is a song about "Im george crook killin fakes"

George jackson packin' a magnum

So the ones eye has freak don't run

Caught george with a hand on his cock

He say, she say, oh my god

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

Before evil took, over my brain, you shot the crook

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Killin rappers by the dozen cause im flooded shootin buttons,

He should of never fucked around with a sick ass nigga like methey call my name out and niggas run

Burn in hell thats what i tell my competition, im killin off the weak shit and supplyin my vision

The little engine that could, this little nigga is good

Im foldin stacks no holdin back im killin this kid

To this crook, never booked

You bull shit, look

Im killin this shit just call the morgue

Manahattan and 40/40, no 40’s but rose poured